I have lov'd her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful
O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
Winter, which, being full of care, makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.
Done to death by slanderous tongue
she shall scant show well that now shows best.
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.