They say miracles are past.

A Loud Laugh Bespeaks a Vacant Mind!

Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.

This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision; Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.

O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the Devil!