I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.
Mind your speech a little lest you should mar your fortunes.
He that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail.
By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy The tongues of soothers! but a braver place In my heart's love hath no man than yourself. Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
They told me I was everything. 'Tis a lie, I am not ague-proof.
More of your conversation would infect my brain.