Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency?

My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

Pastime passing excellent, if it he husbanded with modesty.

Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.

And why not death rather than living torment? To die is to be banish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her Is self from self: a deadly banishment!

For who so firm that cannot be seduced?

it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance