God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.

An arrant traitor as any is in the universal world, or in France, or in England.

Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves.

Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Hold, or cut bowstrings.

We cannot fight for love, as men may do; we shou'd be woo'd, and were not made to woo

All is well ended if this suit be won. That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day.