There was never yet fair woman but she made mouths in a glass.
Gold--what can it not do, and undo?
The worm is not to be trusted.
'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.
And to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.
I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you