I Have Shot Mine Arrow O'er The

Men From Children Nothing Differ.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

Love All. Trust A Few. Do Wrong To None. This Above All: To Thine Own Self Be True. No Legacy Is So Rich As Honesty. Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit

No Legacy Is So Rich As Honesty.

Don Pedro Come, Lady, Come; You Have Lost The Heart Of Signior Benedick. Beatrice Indeed, My Lord, He Lent It Me Awhile; And I Gave Him Use For It, A Double Heart For His Single One: Marry, Once Before He Won It Of Me With False Dice, Therefore Your Grace May Well Say I Have Lost It. Don Pedro You Have Put Him Down, Lady, You Have Put Him Down. Beatrice So I Would Not He Should Do Me, My Lord, Lest I Should Prove The Mother Of Fools.