O, The Blood More Stirs To Rouse

You Cannot Make Gross Sins Look Clear: To Revenge Is No Valour, But To Bear.

If This Were Played Upon A Stage Now, I Could Condemn It As An Improbable Fiction.

These Cardinals Trifle With Me; I Abhor; This Dilatory Sloth And Tricks Of Rome.

Be Merry, And Employ Your Chiefest Thoughts To Courtship And Such Fair Ostents Of Love As Shall Conveniently Become You There.

If Ever Thou Shalt Love, In The Sweet Pangs Of It Remember Me; For Such As I Am All True Lovers Are, Unstaid And Skittish In All Motions Else Save In The Constant Image Of The Creature That Is Beloved.