There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.
Now my charms are all o'erthrown.
Adieu! I have too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave.
Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.
Though Death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
what cannot be saved when fate takes, patience her injury a mockery makes