That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty.

She marking them begins a wailing note And sings extemporally a woeful ditty How love makes young men thrall and old men dote How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, And still the choir of echoes answer so.

wert thou as far As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.

Thy friendship makes us fresh.

what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes

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.

The villany you teach me I shall execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.