Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me
She's good, being gone.
And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?
Time and the hour run through the roughest day.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savour but themselves.
These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.