Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!

My heart is harden'd, I cannot repent.

O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.

Hell hath no limits, nor is circumscrib'd In one self place; but where we are is hell, And where hell is, there must we ever be.