Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

So, you are very welcome to our house. It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.

Death rock me asleep.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.

A man I am cross'd with adversity.