A Good Man's Fortune May Grow Out

She Dreams Of Him That Has Forgot Her Love; You Dote On Her That Cares Not For Your Love. 'tis Pity Love Should Be So Contrary; And Thinking Of It Makes Me Cry 'alas!

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

Sigh No More Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever

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.

Man, Proud Man, Drest In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured.