Who can be patient in extremes?
Love goes toward love.
Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn.
Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so? / Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.