Thou art a Castilian King urinal!
So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.
I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue.
I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.
It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.
It is the cowish terror of his spirit that dares not undertake; he'll not feel wrongs which tie him to an answer.