My father names me Autolycus, who being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

Thou hast nor youth nor age But as it were an after dinner sleep Dreaming of both.

You have witchcraft in your lips

This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision; Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.

Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.

Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.

Every good servant does not all commands.