What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?
Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.
Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.