The iron tongue of Midnight hath told twelve lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outstep the coming morn as much as we this night over-watch'd.

What power is it which mounts my love so high, that makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye

Let not the world see fear and sad distrust govern the motion of a kingly eye.

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love.

Faint heart never won fair maid.

Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.