When Death doth close his tender dying eyes.
O King, believe not this hard-hearted man!
Live how we can, yet die we must.
Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney.
I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
Pause awhile, And let my counsel sway you.