Sometimes we are devils to ourselves When we will tempt the frailty of our powers, Presuming on their changeful potency.

What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?

The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.

Most dangerous is that temptation that doth goad us on to sin in loving virtue.

Love`s reason`s without reason

O tiger's heart wrapped in a woman's hide!

Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart; And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.