He is white-livered and red-faced.

Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.

Gold--what can it not do, and undo?

Beware the ides of March.

My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education. My life and education both do learn me How to respect you. You are the lord of my duty, I am hitherto your daughter. But here’s my husband, And so much duty as my mother showed To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow

Such men as he be never at heart's ease Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, And therefore are they very dangerous.