Leave us to our free election.

Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart; And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.

His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.

As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and in her invention, and Ford's wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?