Cupid is a knavish lad, Thus to make poor females mad.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence; the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature.

Thyself shall see the act; For, as thou urgest justice, be assured Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.

My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; I know not where I am nor what I do.

Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave.

If I shall be condemned Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you 'Tis rigor and not law.

Love is familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love." -