Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart.
Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it; it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal.
Let us embrace, and from this very moment vow an eternal misery together.
Who's a prince or beggar in the grave?