O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.

This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.

Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?

The instruments of darkness tell us truths.

I was not born under a rhyming planet, nor I cannot woo to in festival terms.

How every fool can play upon the word!

The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.