Sorrow calls no time that 's gone;
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.[183:3]
The Queen of Corinth. Act iii. Sc. 2.
O woman, perfect woman! what distraction
Was meant to mankind when thou wast made a devil!
Monsieur Thomas. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Let us do or die.[183:4]
The Island Princess. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Hit the nail on the head.