And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire, The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmasks her beauty to the moon.

And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.

The world must be peopled!

Foul whisperings are abroad

We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

To fear the worst oft cures the worst.

When our actions do not, our fears make us traitors.