In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.

And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.

All is well ended if this suit be won. That you express content; which we will pay, With strife to please you, day exceeding day.

Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay, And that bare vowel ay shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice. I am not I,if there be such an ay, Or those eyes shut,that make thee answer ay: If he be slain say ay,or if not,no: Brief sounds,determine of my weal or woe.

There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

For this relief, much thanks

Women being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the walls.