No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.
For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.
I love thee; none but thee, and thou deservest it
A good wit will make use of anything.
What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.