For I can raise no money by vile means. By heaven, I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas

I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.

Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.

For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?

O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world.

No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

We will draw the curtain and show you the picture.