Such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.
I would not wish any companion in the world but you.
To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
Though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve.
As chaste as unsunned snow.
Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.