It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.

But when I came, alas, to wive, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day.

The devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of proverbs--he will give the devil his due.

My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time's furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate.

Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.

I am bewitched with the rogue's company. If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged.

Then was I as a tree whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night, a storm or robbery, call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather.