by Kayla Howard
"Oh, that I served that lady
And might not be delivered to the world,
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow,
What my estate is." (I,i,38-41) pg.2.
"And so they are. Alas, that they are so,
To die even when they to perfection grow!" (II,iv,39-40) pg 4.
"Thou dost speak masterly.
My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye
Hath stay’d upon some favor that it loves.
Hath it not, boy?" (II,iv,1-4) pg.2.