A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Virtue that transgresses is but patched with sin; and sin that amends is but patched with virtue.
Your "if" is the only peacemaker; much virtue in "if.
Ay, Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
As chaste as unsunned snow.
My heart is ever at your service.