Discharge my followers; let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.

I love thee; none but thee, and thou deservest it

And be these juggling friends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear And break it to our hope.

Some falls the means are happier to rise.

What e'er thou art, act well thy part.

I am wealthy in my friends.

O, reason not the need!