Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.

Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation

Here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

And yet,to say the truth, reason and love keep little company together nowadays.

Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.

We do pray for mercy, and that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy.

O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.