As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not

“O, why should wrath be mute, and fury dumb?I am no baby, I, that with base pray…”

“who bore him three children”

“Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.”

“Rumour is a pipeBlown by surmises, jealousies, conjecturesAnd of so easy and so…”