Benedick: I am man enough to say that I love thee. Is that not strange?Beatrice: Not really…Benedick: By my sword, Beatrice thou lovest me.Beatrice: Get over yourself...
Alas poor Yorick, he looks not at all well.I knew him, Horatio;a fellow of infinite jest, though sadly finite breath.Though thy gibes be still, yet still thou grins.I seldom...