If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.

Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.

Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive If you will lead these graces to the grave And leave the world no copy.

Let the end try the man.

Ingratitude is monstrous.

This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.