You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.
What a fool honesty is.
He is well paid that is well satisfied.
Such as we are made of, such we be.
My dear, dear Lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away Men are but gilded loan or painted clay... Mine honor is my life; both grow in one; Take honor from me, and my life is done.
Thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife!