Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks draw deep.

For she had eyes and chose me.

Women's weapons, water-drops.

What else may hap, to time I will commit.

Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you

Never anything can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.