I'll note you in my book of memory.
Every offense is not a hate at first.
O braggart vile and damned furious wight!
He kills her in her own humor.
Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.