O, I do not like that paying back, 'tis a double labor.
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.
A man should be what he seems.
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.