Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!

He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano!

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours: I give away myself for you and dote upon the exchange.