Taming of the Shrew Act 1, Scene 1 BAPTISTA Enough, gentlemen! You can’t influence me on this point. You know how I feel. I’m determined not to permit my younger daughter to marry until I have a husband for the elder one. I’ve long regarded you both as good friends. Therefore, if either of you is partial to Katherina, he shall have my permission to court her freely. GREMIO Cart her, you mean. She’s too much for me. How about you, Hortensio? Are you still interested in marrying?   KATHERINE (to BAPTISTA) May I ask, sir, if it’s your intention to publicly humiliate me, showing me off like a whore in front of these suitors? HORTENSIO We’re not your suitors, that’s for sure! Not until you improve your temper, girl! Don’t worry, I couldn’t care less. The only possible interest I could take in you would be to hit you on the head with a stool, paint your face with blood, and make a fool out of you. May the good Lord keep me safe from all women like her! Me too, Lord! TRANIO (speaking so that only LUCENTIO can hear) Wow! This’ll be fun to watch! This girl is either completely crazy or incredibly willful. LUCENTIO (speaking so that only TRANIO can hear) But her sister seems quiet and well behaved, as a young girl should be. Shhh, Tranio. BAPTISTA Gentlemen, importune me no farther, For how I firmly am resolved you know— That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter Before I have a husband for the elder. If either of you both love Katherina, Because I know you well and love you well Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure. GREMIO To cart her, rather. She’s too rough for me.— There, there, Hortensio, will you any wife? KATHERINE (to BAPTISTA) I pray you, sir, is it your will To make a stale of me amongst these mates? HORTENSIO “Mates,” maid? how mean you that? No mates for you Unless you were of gentler, milder mold. I' faith, sir, you shall never need to fear. I wis it is not halfway to her heart. But if it were, doubt not her care should be To comb your noddle with a three-legged stool And paint your face and use you like a fool. From all such devils, good Lord, deliver us! And me too, good Lord! TRANIO (aside to LUCENTIO) Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward. That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward. LUCENTIO (aside to TRANIO) But in the other’s silence do I see Maid’s mild behavior and sobriety. Peace, Tranio.

Othello Act 4, Scene 2 OTHELLO You haven’t seen anything, then? EMILIA No, and I didn’t hear anything either, or suspect anything at all. But you’ve seen her and Cassio together. Yes, but I didn’t see anything wrong, and I heard every syllable they said. Didn’t they ever whisper? Never, my lord. Or ask you to leave the room? Never. Not even to get her fan, or her gloves, or her mask, or anything? No, my lord. That’s strange. I’d swear to you on my soul that she’s a good, honest person, sir. If you suspect otherwise, stop thinking that right now because you’re wrong. If any jerk has tried to convince you she’s bad, I hope God curses him. If she’s not honest, faithful, and true, then there’s no such thing as a faithful wife or a happy husband. Tell her to come here. Go. EMILIA exits. She says all the right things, but the dumbest brothel-keeper would tell the same story. Desdemona’s a tricky whore with a closet full of awful secrets, but still she’ll kneel and pray like an honest woman. I’ve seen her do it. OTHELLO You have seen nothing then? EMILIA Nor ever heard, nor ever did suspect. Yes, you have seen Cassio and she together. But then I saw no harm, and then I heard Each syllable that breath made up between them. What, did they never whisper? Never, my lord. Nor send you out o' th' way? Never. To fetch her fan, her gloves, her mask, nor nothing? That’s strange. I durst, my lord, to wager she is honest, Lay down my soul at stake. If you think other Remove your thought, it doth abuse your bosom. If any wretch have put this in your head Let heaven requite it with the serpent’s curse For if she be not honest, chaste, and true There’s no man happy. The purest of their wives Is foul as slander.   Bid her come hither. Go. Exit EMILIA She says enough, yet she’s a simple bawd That cannot say as much. This is a subtle whore, A closet, lock and key, of villainous secrets. And yet she’ll kneel and pray, I have seen her do ’t.

Twelfth Night Act 2, Scene 4 ORSINO (to VIOLA) Come here, boy. If you ever fall in love and feel the bittersweet pain it brings, think of me. Because the way I am now, moody and unable to focus on anything except the face of the woman I love, is exactly how all true lovers are. What do you think of this song? VIOLA It really makes you feel what a lover feels. You’re absolutely right. I’d bet my life that, as young as you are, you’ve fallen in love with someone. Haven’t you, boy? A little bit. What kind of woman is she? She’s a lot like you. She’s not good enough for you, then. How old is she? About as old as you are, my lord. That’s definitely too old. A woman should always pick an older man. That way she’ll adjust herself to what her husband wants, and the husband will be happy and faithful to her. Because however much we like to brag, boy, the truth is that we men change our minds a lot more than women do, and our desires come and go a lot faster than theirs. I think you’re right, sir. So find someone younger to love, or you won’t be able to maintain your feelings. Women are like roses: the moment their beauty is in full bloom, it’s about to decay. That’s true. It’s too bad their beauty fades right when it reaches perfection! ORSINO (to VIOLA) Come hither, boy. If ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it remember me; For such as I am, all true lovers are, Unstaid and skittish in all motions else Save in the constant image of the creature That is beloved. How dost thou like this tune? VIOLA It gives a very echo to the seat Where Love is throned.    Thou dost speak masterly. My life upon ’t, young though thou art, thine eye Hath stay’d upon some favor that it loves. Hath it not, boy?    A little, by your favor. What kind of woman is’t?    Of your complexion. She is not worth thee, then. What years, i' faith? About your years, my lord. Too old by heaven. Let still the woman take An elder than herself. So wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband’s heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women’s are.    I think it well, my lord. Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. For women are as roses, whose fair flower Being once displayed, doth fall that very hour. And so they are. Alas, that they are so, To die even when they to perfection grow!

Romeo and Juliet Act 1, Scene 5 (taking JULIET’s hand) Your hand is like a holy place that my hand is unworthy to visit. If you’re offended by the touch of my hand, my two lips are standing here like blushing pilgrims, ready to make things better with a kiss. JULIET Good pilgrim, you don’t give your hand enough credit. By holding my hand you show polite devotion. After all, pilgrims touch the hands of statues of saints. Holding one palm against another is like a kiss. ROMEO Don’t saints and pilgrims have lips too? Yes, pilgrim—they have lips that they’re supposed to pray with. Well then, saint, let lips do what hands do. I’m praying for you to kiss me. Please grant my prayer so my faith doesn’t turn to despair. Saints don’t move, even when they grant prayers. Then don’t move while I act out my prayer. He kisses her. Now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours. Then do my lips now have the sin they took from yours? Sin from my lips? You encourage crime with your sweetness. Give me my sin back. They kiss again You kiss like you’ve studied how. NURSE Madam, your mother wants to talk to you. JULIET moves away ROMEO (taking JULIET’s hand) If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIET Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this, For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take. Kisses her Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. They kiss again    You kiss by th' book. NURSE Madam, your mother craves a word with you. JULIET moves away