Tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fear of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, Their pangs of love, with other incident throes That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them.

Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.

Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear

Come, Lady, die to live.

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan For that deep wound it gives my friend and me; Is't not enough to torture me alone, But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?