Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.

Let each man do his best.

Virtue's office never breaks men's troth.

Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!

My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty. To you I am bound for life and education. My life and education both do learn me How to respect you. You are the lord of my duty, I am hitherto your daughter. But here’s my husband, And so much duty as my mother showed To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor my lord.

Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.

He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.