She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not, with all their quantity of love, make up my sum.
Where souls do couch on flowers we'll hand in hand.
The wheel is come full circle.
I will make a Star-chamber matter of it.