Act 1: Scene 3

What the good-year, my lord! why are you thus out
of measure sad?

You should hear reason.

If not a present remedy, at least a patient
sufferance.

Yea, but you must not make the full show of this
till you may do it without controlment. You have of
late stood out against your brother, and he hath
ta’en you newly into his grace; where it is
impossible you should take true root but by the
fair weather that you make yourself: it is needful
that you frame the season for your own harvest.

Can you make no use of your discontent?

To the death, my lord.

Act 3: Scene 3

Here, man; I am at thy elbow.

I will owe thee an answer for that: and now forward
with thy tale.

Is it possible that any villany should be so dear?

I wonder at it.

Yes, it is apparel.

Yes, the fashion is the fashion.

No; ’twas the vane on the house.

All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears
out more apparel than the man. But art not thou
thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast
shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?

And thought they Margaret was Hero?

Masters, masters,–

Masters,–

A commodity in question, I warrant you. Come, we’ll obey you.

Act 4: Scene 2

I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade.

[with Borachio] Yea, sir, we hope.

Marry, sir, we say we are none.

Off, coxcomb!

Away! you are an ass, you are an ass.