The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.

No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Officers, what offence have these men done? DOGBERRY Marry, sir, they have committed false report; moreover, they have spoken untruths; secondarily, they are slanders; sixth and lastly, they have belied a lady; thirdly, they have verified unjust things; and, to conclude, they are lying knaves.

Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?

Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.

Let men say we be men of good government, being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.