Truth Will Come To Sight;

Unnatural Deeds Do Breed Unnatural Troubles: Infected Minds To Their Deaf Pillows Will Discharge Their Secrets.

How Now, Wit! Whither Wander You?

We That Are True Lovers Run Into Strange Capers; But As All Is Mortal In Nature, So Is All Nature In Love Mortal In Folly.

He Does Me Double Wrong That Wounds Me With The Flatteries Of His Tongue.

I Will Instruct My Sorrows To Be Proud; For Grief Is Proud, And Makes His Owner Stoop.