“Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass but my madness speaks.”

“Teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak; Lay open to my earthy-gross conceit, Smother'd in errors, feeble, shallow, weak, The folded meaning of your words' deceit.”

“Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.”

“I will be brief: your noble son is mad:Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,What is't but to be nothing else but mad?”

“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!Give me my sin again.”

“I cannot speak your england.”

“Good Madonna, why mournest thou?Good Fool, for my brother's death.I think his soul is in hell, Madonna.I know his soul is in heaven, Fool. The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven.”