Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.
Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.
The teeming Autumn big with rich increase, bearing the wanton burden of the prime like widowed wombs after their lords decease.
Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe