And as they pass, turn back and laugh at me. |
For all true love is grounded on esteem. |
For all true love is grounded on esteem. |
Good wits will jump. |
Make my breast transparent as pure crystal, that the world, jealous of me, may see the foulest thought my heart does hold |
Men's fame is like their hair, which grows after they are dead, and with just as little use to them. |
The world's a forest, in which all lose their way; though by a different path each goes astray. |
What the devil does the plot signify, except to bring in fine things? |