The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.

If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.

Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

Oh! that you could turn your eyes towards the napes of your necks, and make but an interior survey of your good selves.

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.