He hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age, doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion.

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.

O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -

Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.

I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.

Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!

Death where is thy sting? Love, where is thy glory?