A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.

So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend: thy love ne'er alter, till they sweet life end

To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.

Fruits that blossom first will first be ripe.

I'll look to like; if looking, liking move.

Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated

Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.