There is none of my uncle's marks upon you; he taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner.

But shall we wear these glories for a day? Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?

Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed King.

Good wombs have borne bad sons." -- (Miranda, I:2)

The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

All's well if all ends well.

Wooing, wedding, and repenting is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty like a Scotch jig--and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure, full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance and with his bad legs falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.