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We were as twinned lambs that did frisk i' th' sun, And bleat the one at th' other. What we changed Was innocence for innocence; we knew not The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed That any did.

But thus: if powers divine Behold our human actions, as they do, I doubt not then but innocence shall make False accusation blush and tyranny Tremble at patience.

The silence often of pure innocence Persuades when speaking fails.

Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket picked?

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day. Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn, and near approaches The subject of our watch.

Madam, I swear I use no art at all. That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity, And pity 'tis 'tis true--a foolish figure.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.

It shall be so. Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.

We are not ourselves When nature, being oppressed, commands the mind To suffer with the body.

Instinct is a great matter. I was now a coward on instinct.

O monstrous! but one halfpennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!

In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame! One drunkard loves another of the name.

Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings.

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts, Upon malicious knavery does thou come To start my quiet.

I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause transform ourselves into beasts!

I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest, and the ingredient is a devil.

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking; So full of valor that they smote the air For breathing in their faces, beat the ground, For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project.

What's a drunken man like, fool? Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One draught above heat makes him a fool, the seconds mads him, and a third drowns him.

She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter: I say she never did invent this letter; This is a man's invention and his hand.

Remember, sir, my liege, The kings your ancestors, together with The natural bravery of your isle, which stands As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in With rocks unscalable and roaring waters, With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats But suck them up to th' topmast.