O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.
Heaven - the treasury of everlasting life.
Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.
Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
A contract of eternal bond of love, Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, Arrested by the holy close of lips, Strength'ned by the interchangement of your rings, And all the ceremony of this compact Seal'd in my function, by my testimony.