For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!

Through the forest have I gone. But Athenian found I none, On whose eyes I might approve This flower's force in stirring love. Night and silence.--Who is here? Weeds of Athens he doth wear: This is he, my master said, Despised the Athenian maid; And here the maiden, sleeping sound, On the dank and dirty ground. Pretty soul! she durst not lie Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy. Churl, upon thy eyes I throw All the power this charm doth owe. When thou wakest, let love forbid Sleep his seat on thy eyelid: So awake when I am gone; For I must now to Oberon.

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee

Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.

If she be not honest, chaste, and true, there's no man happy.

My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where 'tis spoken.