One may smile, and smile, and be a villain.

Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears.

I feel it gone, yet know not when it left.

My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education. My life and education both do learn me How to respect you. You are the lord of my duty, I am hitherto your daughter. But here’s my husband, And so much duty as my mother showed To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.

That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimms, and makes it indistinct As water is in water

Now, God be praised, that to believing souls gives light in darkness, comfort in despair.

What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? Beatrice: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?