Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe

Grief best is pleased with grief's society.

How low am I, thou painted maypole?

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.

In thy face I see the map of honour, truth and loyalty.

If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.

This is the very coinage of your brain: this bodiless creation ecstasy.