I never yet did hear, That the bruis'd heart was pierced through the ear

“There's small choice in rotten apples.”

“Kent.Where's the king?Gent.Contending with the fretful elements;Bids the wind b…”

“In springtime, the only pretty ring timeBirds sing, hey dingA-ding, a-dingSweet…”

“As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.”