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

Such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

Is not the truth the truth?

One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

I am a Jew: Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with die same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is?

She will die if you love her not, And she will die ere she might make her love known