texts: I doubt it not. Trust me, love, all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our times to come. Adieu.
labels: O God, I have an ill-divining soul. Methinks I see thee, now thou art so low, as one dead in the bottom of a tomb. O fortune, fortune. Be fickle, fortune, for then I hope that thou will not keep him long but send him back.