My Pride Fell With My Fortunes.

Virtuous And Fair, Royal And Gracious.

But There Is No Such Man; For, Brother, Men Can Counsel And Speak Comfort To That Grief Which They Themselves Not Feel; But, Tasting It, Their Counsel Turns To Passion, Which Before Would Give Preceptial Medicine To Rage, Fetter Strong Madness In A Silken Thread, Charm Ache With Air And Agony With Words.

All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its Woe.

Every True Man's Apparel Fits Your Thief.

Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date.