Do you think your mother and I should have lived comfortably so long together, if ever we had been married? Baggage!
No retreat. No retreat. They must conquer or die who've no retreat.
Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet.
Lest men suspect your tale untrue, Keep probability in view.
Shall ignorance of good and ill Dare to direct the eternal will? Seek virtue, and of that possest, To Providence resign the rest.
Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows, Fair is the daisy that beside her grows.