Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding they brav'ry in their rotten smoke?
Though she be but little, she is fierce!
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
How hard it is for women to keep counsel!
How well he's read, to reason against reading!
Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.