Dissembling Courtesy! How Fine This Tyrant Can

Who Alone Suffers Suffers Most I' Th' Mind, Leaving Free Things And Happy Shows Behind; But Then The Mind Much Sufferance Doth O'erskip When Grief Hath Mates, And Bearing Fellowship.

As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight To See His Active Child Do Deeds Of Youth, So I, Made Lame By Fortune's Dearest Spite, Take All My Comfort Of Thy Worth And Truth.

Give To A Gracious Message An Host Of Tongues, But Let Ill Tidings Tell Themselves When They Be Felt.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

Thou Dost Conspire Against Thy Friend, Iago, If Thou But Think'st Him Wronged, And Mak'st His Ear A Stranger To Thy Thoughts.