Ingratitude is monstrous.
I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; for in my youth I never did apply hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; and did not, with unbashful forehead, woo the means of weakness and debility: therefore my age is as a lusty winter, frosty but kindly.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.