The month of May was come, when every lusty heart beginneth to blossom, and to bring forth fruit.
The sweetness of love is short-lived, but the pain endures.
Enough is as good as a feast.
Wit thou well that I will not live long after thy days.
Queen Guenever, for whom I make here a little mention, that while she lived she was a true lover, and therefore she had a good end.
What, nephew, said the king, is the wind in that door?