Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than

That, Sir, Which Serves And Seeks For Gain, And Follows But For Form, Will Pack, When It Begins To Rain, And Leave Thee In A Storm.

I Am Declined Into The Vale Of Years.

I Cannot Speak Your England.

When My Love Swears That She Is Made Of Truth, I Do Believe Her, Though I Know She Lies.

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" (5.3.25-28).