(..) The instant scream of honer that she made, unless things mortal move them not at all... ...would have made weep the burning eyes of heaven and passion in the gods Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave am I Is it not monstrous that this player here but in a fiction, in a dream of passion... (..)

(..) and to the last bended their light on me This is the very ecstasy of love, whose violent property fordoes itself and leads the will... ...to desperate undertakings as oft as any passion under heaven that does afflict our natures What, have you given him any hard words of late? (..)