To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!
Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
And why not death rather than living torment? To die is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
The quality of mercy is not strained
When truth kills truth, O devilish holy fray!
She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.