He doth nothing but talk of his horses.
What is more miserable than discontent?
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.
Pray you now, forget and forgive.
I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.
Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, did my heart fly at your service