1 Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow.
2 I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
3 Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode.
4 Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
5 So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
6 By your leave, I bid my very friends and countrymen, Sweet Portia, welcome.
7 O sweet Portia, Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper.
8 You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are.
9 Sweet lady, you have given me life and living; For here I read for certain that my ships Are safely come to road.
10 A day in April never came so sweet, To show how costly summer was at hand, As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.
11 The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren.
12 The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus.
13 In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise, in such a night, Troilus methinks mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents Where Cressid lay that night.
14 Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the ring, If you did know for whom I gave the ring, And would conceive for what I gave the ring, And how unwillingly I left the ring, When nought would be accepted but the ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure.