Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise. Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not uttered by base sale of chapmen’s tongues

Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years’ space;

O, these are barren tasks, too hard to keep, Not to see ladies, study, fast, not sleep.

And I forsooth in love! I that have been love’s whip

Study is like the heaven’s glorious sun,

How needless was it then To ask the question.

God bless my ladies, are they all in love, That every one her own hath garnishèd With such bedecking ornaments of praise?

Item, If any man be seen to talk with a woman within the term of three years, he shall endure such public shame as the rest of the court can possible devise.

Well, say I am. Why should proud summer boast Before the birds have any cause to sing? Why should I joy in any abortive birth?