But what's so blessed-fair that fears no blot? Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust? And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence; the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?

Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

LEONATO Well, niece, I hope to see you one day fitted with a husband. BEATRICE Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be overmastered with a pierce of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle, I'll none: Adam's sons are my brethren; and, truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred.