O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!

I know a place where the wild thyme blows, where oxlips and the nodding violet grows.

Oh, I have passed a miserable night, so full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams!

For I am he am born to tame you, Kate; and bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate conformable as other household Kates.

'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, When not to be, receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed, Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.

Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.

It is meant that noble minds keep ever with their likes; for who so firm that cannot be seduced.