Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
Men in rage strike those that wish them best.
Have you not love enough to bear with me, when that rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful.
it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance
There's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of December.
Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head?