You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are. And yet for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean.
By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.
If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men’s cottages princes' palaces.
Such a hare is madness the youth—to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband.
Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?
O me, the word “choose!” I may neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I dislike—so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father.
The lottery your father hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who shall rightly love.
But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
I pray thee, overname them. And as thou namest them, I will describe them. And according to my description, level at my affection.
Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith.
First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
If he would despise me I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness I shall never requite him.
I had rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two!