And all my mother came into mine eyes And gave me up to tears.
And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
Best men oft are moulded out of faults.
When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress.
Pardon's the word to all.
Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.