Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well, Of one not easily jealous but, being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinable gum. Set you down this, And say besides that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turbaned Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by th' throat the circumcised dog And smote him thus.

But yet, I say, if imputation and strong circumstances, which lead directly to the door of truth, will give you satisfaction, you may have it.

This is the very ecstasy of love.

I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words. (Act III, sc. I, 37-38)

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.

Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.