But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity,

Read O'er This And After, This, And Then To Breakfast With What Appetite You Have.

Yet This My Comfort: When Your Words Are Done, My Woes End Likewise With The Evening Sun.

And In The Morn And Liquid Dew Of Youth, Contagious Blastments Are Are Most Imminent.

Hath Romeo Slain Himself? Say Thou But Ay, And That Bare Vowel Ay Shall Poison More Than The Death-darting Eye Of Cockatrice. I Am Not I,if There Be Such An Ay, Or Those Eyes Shut,that Make Thee Answer Ay: If He Be Slain Say Ay,or If Not,no: Brief Sounds,determine Of My Weal Or Woe.

Bassanio: Do All Men Kill All The Things They Do Not Love? Shylock: Hates Any Man The Thing He Would Not Kill? Bassanio: Every Offence Is Not A Hate At First.