1 O, the world hath not a sweeter creature.
2 Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong for the whole world.
3 By the world, I think my wife be honest, and think she is not.
4 My story being done, She gave me for my pains a world of sighs.
5 Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light.
6 I will catechize the world for him, that is, make questions and by them answer.
7 Yes, a dozen; and as many to the vantage as would store the world they played for.
8 I therefore apprehend and do attach thee For an abuser of the world, a practiser Of arts inhibited and out of warrant.
9 If thou the next night following enjoy not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery and devise engines for my life.
10 Nay, had she been true, If heaven would make me such another world Of one entire and perfect chrysolite, I'd not have sold her for it.
11 Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
12 I cannot say "whore," It does abhor me now I speak the word; To do the act that might the addition earn Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
13 'Why, the wrong is but a wrong i' the world; and having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.'
14 Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense, That thou hast practis'd on her with foul charms, Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals That weakens motion.'
15 That I did love the Moor to live with him, My downright violence and storm of fortunes May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued Even to the very quality of my lord.
16 A sibyl, that had number'd in the world The sun to course two hundred compasses, In her prophetic fury sew'd the work; The worms were hallow'd that did breed the silk, And it was dyed in mummy, which the skillful Conserv'd of maiden's hearts.