Wine, not too much, inspires and make the mind,to the soft joys of Venus strong inclined,which, buried in excess, unapt to love,stupidly lies and knows not hom to move
That you may be beloved, be amiable.
There is something in omens.
Leave war to others; 'tis Protesilaus' part of love.
Everything comes gradually and at its appointed hour.
What is reason now was passion heretofore.