The very instant I saw you, did My heart fly to your service; there resides To make me slave to it. ...mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want.

Delay leads impotent and snail-paced beggary.

How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!

Gloucester, we have done deeds of charity, made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, between these swelling wrong-incensed peers.

A heavy heart bears not a nimble tongue.

I hope to see London once ere I die.

To saucy doubts and fears.