Truth

Here the anthem doth commence:
Love and constancy is dead,
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.

Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed, in cinders lie.

I come no more to make you laugh. Things now
PersonificationThat bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
SynecdocheSuch noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present.Hyperbaton Those that can pity here
May,
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Glendower
Sit, good cousin Hotspur, for by that name
As oft as Lancaster doth speak of you
His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh
He wisheth you in heaven.
Hotspur
And you in hell,
As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
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Bertram
I prithee do not strive against my vows.
I was compelled to her, but I love thee
By love’s own sweet constraint, and will forever
Do thee all rights of service.
Diana
Ay, so you serve us
Till we serve you. But when you have our roses,
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves
And mock us with our bareness.
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