We are oft to blame in this, - 'tis too much proved, - that with devotion's visage, and pios action we do sugar o'er the devil himself.

O the world is but a word; were it all yours to give it in a breath, how quickly were it gone!

If I had my mouth, I would bite; if I had my liberty, I would do my liking. In the meantime, let me be that I am, and seek not toalter me.

As a decrepit father takes delight To see his active child do deeds of youth, So I, made lame by fortune's dearest spite, Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.

An arrant traitor as any is in the universal world, or in France, or in England.

What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.

Men of few words are the best men." (3.2.41)