His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.

My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.

But I am constant as the Northern Star, Of whose true fixed and resting quality There is no fellow in the firmament.

They have a plentiful lack of wit.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!