What fates impose, that men must needs abide; it boots not to resist both wind and tide.

Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.

Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.

My love to thee is sound, sans crack or flaw.

The latter end of a fray, and the beginning of a feast, Fits a dull fighter, and a keen guest.

Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, meeting the check of such another day.

Those that are good manners at the court are as ridiculous in the country, as the behavior of the country is most mockable at the court.