Despair And Die. The Ghosts

When Great Leaves Fall, The Winter Is At Hand.

The Heavens Forbid But That Our Loves And Comforts Should Increase Even As Our Days Do Grow!

For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth Done.

Gratiano Speaks An Infinite Deal Of Nothing, More Than Any Man In All Venice. His Reasons Are As Two Grains Of Wheat Hid In Two Bushels Of Chaff: You Shall Seek All Day Ere You Find Them, And When You Have Them, They Are Not Worth The Search.

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.