Muster your wits; stand in your own defence.
What's gone, and what's past help, Should be past grief.
Examine well your blood.
Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania
You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves praised.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage where every man must play a part, And mine is a sad one.