Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee; therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.

When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray!

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.

That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water

O heaven! were man, But constant, he were perfect.

Their lips were four red roses on a stalk.

I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.