Frailty, Thy Name Is Woman!

Well, If Fortune Be A Woman, She's A Good Wench For This Gear.

You May My Glories And My State Depose, But Not My Griefes; Still Am I King Of Those.

Say, What Abridgement Have You For This Evening? What Masque, What Music? How Shall We Beguile The Lazy Time If Not With Some Delight?

Now The Melancholy Of God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Doublet Of Changable Taffata, For Thy Mind Is A Very Opal. I Would Have Men Of Such Constancy Put To Sea, That Their Business Might Be Everything, And Their Intent Everywhere, For That's It, That Always Makes A Good Voyage Of Nothing.

The Liquid Drops Of Tears That You Have Shed Shall Come Again, Transform'd To Orient Pearl, Advantaging Their Loan With Interest Of Ten Times Double Gain Of Happiness.