The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

He that is truly dedicated to war hath no self-love

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

Good wombs have borne bad sons." -- (Miranda, I:2)

Love denied blights the soul we owe to God.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember.