I am not of that feather, to shake off my friend when he must need me
We that are true lovers run into strange capers.
You taught me language, and my profit on't / Is, I know how to curse
We have seen better days.
What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
Come, swear it, damn thyself, lest, being like one of heaven, the devils themselves should fear to seize thee; therefore be double-damned, swear,--thou art honest.