Speak me fair in death.
With caution judge of probability. Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, experience oft hath proved to be true.
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should without eyes see pathways to his will!
Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.
If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.