For a noble heart, the most precious gift becomes poor, when the giver stops loving.

in black ink my love may still shine bright.

Let the end try the man.

I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.

Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?

Refrain to-night; And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.

Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us yet: suffer us to famish, and their storehouses crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act established against the rich, and provide more piercing statutes daily to chain up and restrain the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and there's all the love they bear us.