Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber.
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office Which the false man does easy.
Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.