If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die.
More can I bear than you dare execute.
It is not night when I do see your face.
God, the best maker of all marriages, Combine your hearts into one.
Out of her favour, where I am in love.
I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.