It is my soul that calls upon my name; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears! -Romeo

Are you sure/That we are awake? It seems to me/That yet we sleep, we dream

Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.

As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.

Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.

Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other side

Shall I never see a bachelor of three score again?