Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, He offers in another's enterprise; But more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Than in the glass of Pandar's praise may be, Yet hold I off.

Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously to know I am no better.

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.

For some must watch, while some must sleep So runs the world away

There is flattery in friendship.

There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't

How hard it is for women to keep counsel!