Patch grief with proverbs.
Blow, blow, thou winter wind Thou art not so unkind, As man's ingratitude.
I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.
Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.