If ever you prove false to one another, since I have taken such pain to bring you together, let all pitiful goers-between be called to the world's end after my name; call them all Pandars.
Alas, why would you heap this care on me? I am unfit for state and majesty. I do beseech you take it not amiss, I cannot nor I will not yield to you.
He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria.
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes.
'Tis a strange serpent.
Infected be the air whereon they ride, And damned all those that trust them!
What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?
Aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished, So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
I cannot Be mine own, not anything to any, if I be not thine. To this I am most constant, Though destiny says no.