“You know your mother means to feast with me,And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad:Hark, villains! I will grind your bones to dustAnd with your blood and it I'll make a paste,And of the paste a coffin I will rearAnd make two pasties of your shameful heads,And bid that strumpet, your unhallow'd dam,Like to the earth swallow her own increase.This is the feast that I have bid her to,And this the banquet she shall surfeit on; (5.2.18)”

“If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanksAs though she bid me stay by her a week.If she deny to wed, I'll crave the dayWhen I shall ask the banns, and when be married.”

“Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not serve God if the devil bid you...I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter and the Moor are making the beast with two backs.”

“She is your treasure, she must have a husband;I must dance bare-foot on her wedding dayAnd for your love to her lead apes in hell.Talk not to me: I will go sit and weepTill I can find occasion of revenge.”

“And woo her with some spirit when she comes. Say that she rail; why, then, I'll tell her plain, she sings as sweetly as a nightingail: Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear As morning roses newly washt with dew: Say she be mute and will not speak a word; Then I'll commend her volubility, And say she uttereth piercing eloquence: If she do bid me pack, I'll give her thanks, As though she bid me stay by her a week: If she deny to be wed, I'll crave the day When I shall ask the banns, and when be married.”

“Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hourWhilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of noughtSave, where you are how happy you make those. So true a fool is love that in your will, Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.”

“I am your wife if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.”