Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.

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

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come.

I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you

Nothing can seem foul to those who win.

Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I; every man to his business.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.