Thy Head Is As Full

Full Many A Lady I Have Eyed With Best Regard, And Many A Time Th' Harmony Of Their Tongues Hath Into Bondage Brought My Too Diligent Ear; For Several Virtues Have I Liked Several Women; Never Any With So Full Soul But Some Defect In Her Did Quarrel With The Noblest Grace She Owed, And Put It To The Foil.

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me?

Haply For I Am Black, And Have Not Those Soft Parts Of Conversation That Chamberers Have; Or For I Am Declined Into The Vale Of Years—yet That’s Not Much— She’s Gone. I Am Abused, And My Relief Must Be To Loathe Her. O Curse Of Marriage, That We Can Call These Delicate Creatures Ours And Not Their Appetites! I Had Rather Be A Toad And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others’ Uses. Yet ’tis The Plague Of Great Ones; Prerogatived Are They Less Than The Base. ’tis Destiny Unshunnable, Like Death.

Absence From Those We Love Is Self From Self - A Deadly Banishment.

No, By My Soul, I Never In My Life Did Hear A Challenge Urged More Modestly, Unless A Brother Should A Brother Dare To Gentle Exercise And Proof Of Arms.