I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant can trickle when she wounds!

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.

Of one that lov'd not wisely but too well.

I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.

To some kind of men their graces serve them but as enemies.

The means that heaven yields must be embraced, and not neglected; else, if heaven would, and we will not heaven's offer, we refuse the proffered means of succor and redress.