Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark?

I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.

The apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

My heart is ever at your service.

Thou lump of foul deformity!

Here is a rural fellow that will not be denied your Highness' presence: he brings you figs.