Awake, Dear Heart, Awake. Thou Hast Slept

There Is Thy Gold, Worse Poison To Men's Souls, Doing More Murder In This Loathsome World, Than These Poor Compounds That Thou Mayst Not Sell.

Ill Met By Moonlight, Proud Titania

The Hebrew Will Turn Christian; He Grows Kind.

And Do So, Love, Yet When They Have Devised What Strainèd Touches Rhetoric Can Lend, Thou, Truly Fair, Wert Truly Sympathized In True Plain Words By Thy True-telling Friend; And Their Gross Painting Might Be Better Used Where Cheeks Need Blood; In Thee It Is Abused.

Benvolio- "by My Head, Here Come The Capulets." Mercutio- "by My Heel, I Care Not.