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This apoplexy, as I take it, is a kind of lethargy, an't please your lordship, a kind of sleeping in the blood, a whoreson tingling.

I'll forbear; And am fallen out with my more headier will To take the indisposed and sickly fit For the sound man.

Before the curing of a strong disease, Even in the instant of repair and health, The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil.

And wilt thou still be hammering treachery To tumble down thy husband and thyself From top of honor to disgrace's feet?

Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.

If they perceive dissension in our looks And that within ourselves we disagree, How will their grudging stomachs be provoked To willfull disobedience, and rebel!

There is a divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance or death.

The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart--see, they bark at me.

Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great image of authority--a dog's obeyed in office.

I do not like 'but yet, it does allay The good precedence: fie upon 'but yet,' 'But yet' is as a jailer to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor.

To be, or not to be--that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep-- No more--and by a sleep to say we end The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to.

The wound of peace is surety, Surety secure; but modest doubt is called The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches To th' bottom of the worst.

But now I am cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in To saucy doubts and fears.

Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt.

Make me to see't; or at the least so prove it That the probation bear no hinge nor loop To hang a doubt on--or woe upon thy life!

To be once in doubt Is once to be resolved.

Modest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.

Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.

My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty.

And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherished by her childlike duty, I now am full resolved to take a wife And turn her out to who will take her in.