How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!

Foul words is but foul wind, and foul wind is but foul breath, and foul breath is noisome; therefore I will depart unkissed.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

Good friend for Jesus sake forbeare, To digg the dust encloased heare! Blest be the man that spares thes stones, And curst be he that moves my bones.

Thou art a very ragged Wart.