He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.
Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I ey'd, Such seems your beauty still.
Men's vows are women's traitors
Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt.