Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
Women's weapons, water-drops.
Oh, God! I have an ill-divining soul!
If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.
Death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
Beshrew the heart that makes my heart to groan.