You, mistress, That have the office opposite to Saint Peter, And keep the gate of hell!

To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine.

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

This place is too cold for hell

I know not how to tell thee who I am. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it’s an enemy to thee.

O war! thou son of Hell!