Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!

Twas a clever quibble. Here, a garment for it.

If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

Then to Silvia let us sing that Silvia is excelling. She excels each mortal thing upon the dull earth dwelling.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?

She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her; she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam bad left him before he transgressed.

What? do I love her, that I desire to hear her speak again, and feast upon her eyes