He was ever precise in promise-keeping.

Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet

It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.

The weakest goes to the wall.

Gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom.