I fear, too early: for my mind misgives Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels; and expire the term Of a despised life, clos’d in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death: But He that hath the steerage of my course Direct my sail!
— Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb’d the quiet of our streets; And made Verona’s ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker’d with peace, to part your canker’d hate: If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
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We had to forfeit the deposit.
What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?