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Shakespeare quotes on ringFor all that beauty that doth cover thee, Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me, How can I then be elder than thou art? O therefore love be of thyself so wary, As I not for my self, but for thee will, Source: THE SONNETS 39 O how thy worth with manners may I sing, When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring Loving offenders thus I will excuse ye, Thou dost love her, because thou know'st I love her, And for my sake even so doth she abuse me, Suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her 63 Against my love shall be as I am now With Time's injurious hand crushed and o'erworn, When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow With lines and wrinkles, when his youthful morn Hath travelled on to age's steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he's king Are vanishing, or vanished out of sight, Stealing away the treasure of his spring All tongues (the voice of souls) give thee that due, Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew, Some fresher stamp of the time-bettering days This silence for my sin you did impute, Which shall be most my glory being dumb, For I impair not beauty being mute, When others would give life, and bring a tomb 115 Those lines that I before have writ do lie, Even those that said I could not love you dearer, Yet then my judgment knew no reason why, My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer, But reckoning time, whose millioned accidents Creep in 'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings, Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents, Divert strong minds to the course of alt'ring things Who hast by waning grown, and therein show'st, Source: THE SONNETS 152 In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, But thou art twice forsworn to me love swearing, In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn, In vowing new hate after new love bearing Now, good Lafeu, Bring in the admiration, that we with the May spend our wonder too, or take off thine By wond'ring how thou took'st it scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority We will bind and hoodwink him so that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries when we bring him to our own tents My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them When back again this ring shall be deliver'd Out upon thee, knave! Dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? One brings the in grace, and the other brings thee out My gracious sovereign, Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never hers Noble she was, and thought I stood engag'd; but when I had subscrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceas'd, In heavy satisfaction, and would never Receive the ring again Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science Than I have in this ring And yet I know not- thou didst hate her deadly, And she is dead; which nothing, but to close Her eyes myself, could win me to believe More than to see this ring O, then we bring forth weeds When our quick minds lie still, and our ills told us Is as our earing I do not much dislike the matter, but The manner of his speech; for't cannot be We shall remain in friendship, our conditions So diff'ring in their acts Bring it to that, The gold I give thee will I melt and pour Down thy ill-uttering throat What say you? Hence, [Strikes him] Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head; [She hales him up and down] Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire and stew'd in brine, Smarting in ling'ring pickle I do not know Wherefore my father should revengers want, Having a son and friends, since Julius Caesar, Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, There saw you labouring for him Now I must To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness, who With half the bulk o' th' world play'd as I pleas'd, Making and marring fortunes Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour Demuring upon me Do this suddenly; And let not search and inquisition quail To bring again these foolish runaways I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed If this uncouth forest yield anything savage, I will either be food for it or bring it for food to thee He that a fool doth very wisely hit Doth very foolishly, although he smart, Not to seem senseless of the bob; if not, The wise man's folly is anatomiz'd Even by the squand'ring glances of the fool With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head- a better jointure, I think, than you make a woman; besides, he brings his destiny with him The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream Left on your right hand brings you to the place Between the acres of the rye, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, These pretty country folks would lie, In the spring time, &c This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower, In the spring time, &c And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, For love is crowned with the prime, In the spring time, &c I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, That bring these tidings to this fair assembly Say that I linger'd with you at your shop To see the making of her carcanet, And that to-morrow you will bring it home My way is now to hie home to his house, And tell his wife that, being lunatic, He rush'd into my house and took perforce My ring away Enter DROMIO OF EPHESUS, with a rope's-end Here comes my man; I think he brings the money May it please your Grace, Antipholus, my husband, Who I made lord of me and all I had At your important letters-this ill day A most outrageous fit of madness took him, That desp'rately he hurried through the street, With him his bondman all as mad as he, Doing displeasure to the citizens By rushing in their houses, bearing thence Rings, jewels, anything his rage did like I tell thee, Syracusian, twenty years Have I been patron to Antipholus, During which time he ne'er saw Syracuse When you are hearing a matter between party and party, if you chance to be pinch'd with the colic, you make faces like mummers, set up the bloody flag against all patience, and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, dismiss the controversy bleeding, the more entangled by your hearing Ingratitude is monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful were to make a monster of the multitude; of the which we being members should bring ourselves to be monstrous members Fare ye well; Thou hast years upon thee, and thou art too full Of the wars' surfeits to go rove with one That's yet unbruis'd; bring me but out at gate Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius! Dost thou think I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name Coriolanus, in Corioli? You lords and heads o' th' state, perfidiously He has betray'd your business and given up, For certain drops of salt, your city Rome- I say your city- to his wife and mother; Breaking his oath and resolution like A twist of rotten silk; never admitting Counsel o' th' war; but at his nurse's tears He whin'd and roar'd away your victory, That pages blush'd at him, and men of heart Look'd wond'ring each at others How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing You may wear her in title yours; but you know strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring, which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something I'll make a journey twice as far t' enjoy A second night of such sweet shortness which Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won If you can make't apparent That you have tasted her in bed, my hand And ring is yours How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not What monsters her accuse? Leonatus! O master, what a strange infection Is fall'n into thy ear! What false Italian- As poisonous-tongu'd as handed- hath prevail'd On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No Though his humour Was nothing but mutation- ay, and that From one bad thing to worse- not frenzy, not Absolute madness could so far have rav'd, To bring him here alone Although perhaps It may be heard at court that such as we Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time May make some stronger head- the which he hearing, As it is like him, might break out and swear He'd fetch us in; yet is't not probable To come alone, either he so undertaking Or they so suffering Yet still it's strange What Cloten's being here to us portends, Or what his death will bring us Nay, what hope Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us For barbarous and unnatural revolts During their use, and slay us after No more, you petty spirits of region low, Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts Accuse the Thunderer whose bolt, you know, Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flow'rs But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills, which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth In which time she purpos'd, By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to O'ercome you with her show; and in time, When she had fitted you with her craft, to work Her son into th' adoption of the crown; But failing of her end by his strange absence, Grew shameless-desperate, open'd, in despite Of heaven and men, her purposes, repented The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so, Despairing, died And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son.- Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is For us, and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who brings back to him, that you attend him in the hall Indeed you come near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go by the moon And the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wand'ring knight so fair But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock early, at Gadshill! There are pilgrims gong to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders riding to London with fat purses I speak not this in estimation, As what I think might be, but what I know Is ruminated, plotted, and set down, And only stays but to behold the face Of that occasion that shall bring it on I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of ginger, to be delivered as far as Charing Cross That's even as fair as- 'at hand, quoth the chamberlain'; for thou variest no more from picking of purses than giving direction doth from labouring Yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime in it- a villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack, die when thou wilt; if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring My own knee? When I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talent in the waist; I could have crept into any alderman's thumb-ring [To Glend.] Within that space you may have drawn together Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen What, will you make a younker of me? Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark Wilt thou believe me, Hal? Three or four bonds of forty pound apiece and a seal-ring of my grandfather's Go to the King; and let there be impawn'd Some surety for a safe return again, And In the morning early shall mine uncle Bring him our purposes; and so farewell The southern wind Doth play the trumpet to his purposes And by his hollow whistling in the leaves Foretells a tempest and a blust'ring day We did train him on; And, his corruption being taken from us, We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all I told him gently of our grievances, Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus, By now forswearing that he is forsworn Arm, gentlemen! to arms! for I have thrown A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth, And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, did bear it; Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on An if we live, we live to tread on kings; If die, brave death, when princes die with us! Now for our consciences, the arms are fair, When the intent of bearing them is just There's not three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to beg during life O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! The time was, father, that you broke your word, When you were more endear'd to it than now; When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, Threw many a northward look to see his father Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain There comes no swaggerers here; I have not liv'd all this while to have swaggering now Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater; but I do not love swaggering, by my troth Upon my soul, my lord, The powers that you already have sent forth Shall bring this prize in very easily A whoreson cold, sir, a cough, sir, which I caught with ringing in the King's affairs upon his coronation day, sir We will have away thy cold; and I will take such order that thy friends shall ring for thee The dangers of the days but newly gone, Whose memory is written on the earth With yet appearing blood, and the examples Of every minute's instance, present now, Hath put us in these ill-beseeming arms; Not to break peace, or any branch of it, But to establish here a peace indeed, Concurring both in name and quality He hath a tear for pity and a hand Open as day for melting charity; Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he is flint; As humorous as winter, and as sudden As flaws congealed in the spring of day If you look for a good speech now, you undo me; for what I have to say is of mine own making; and what, indeed, I should say will, I doubt, prove mine own marring The French ambassador upon that instant Crav'd audience; and the hour, I think, is come To give him hearing O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, With blood and sword and fire to win your right! In aid whereof we of the spiritualty Will raise your Highness such a mighty sum As never did the clergy at one time Bring in to any of your ancestors They of those marches, gracious sovereign, Shall be a wall sufficient to defend Our inland from the pilfering borderers And we understand him well, How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, Not measuring what use we made of them Question your Grace the late ambassadors With what great state he heard their embassy, How well supplied with noble counsellors, How modest in exception, and withal How terrible in constant resolution, And you shall find his vanities forespent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly; As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots That shall first spring and be most delicate This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message; Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, To whom expressly I bring greeting too The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, In liberty of bloody hand shall range With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants Rush on his host as doth the melted snow Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon; Go down upon him, you have power enough, And in a captive chariot into Rouen Bring him our prisoner Now forth, Lord Constable and Princes all, And quickly bring us word of England's fall O hard condition, Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel But his own wringing! What infinite heart's ease Must kings neglect that private men enjoy! And what have kings that privates have not too, Save ceremony- save general ceremony? And what art thou, thou idol Ceremony? What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers? What are thy rents? What are thy comings-in? O Ceremony, show me but thy worth! What is thy soul of adoration? Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Creating awe and fear in other men? Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd Than they in fearing More will I do; Though all that I can do is nothing worth, Since that my penitence comes after all, Imploring pardon There must we bring him; and myself have play'd The interim, by rememb'ring you 'tis past Now, fie upon my false French! By mine honour, in true English, I love thee, Kate; by which honour I dare not swear thou lovest me; yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, notwithstanding the poor and untempering effect of my visage Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, Or bring him in obedience to your yoke Froissart, a countryman of ours, records England all Olivers and Rowlands bred During the time Edward the Third did reign 'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, Hearing alarums at our chamber doors Porter, remember what I gave in charge; And when you have done so, bring the keys to me We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands and keep the peace If Richard will be true, not that alone But all the whole inheritance I give That doth belong unto the house of York, From whence you spring by lineal descent [Drum afar off] Hark! hark! The Dauphin's drum, a warning bell, Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul; And mine shall ring thy dire departure out O young John Talbot! I did send for thee To tutor thee in stratagems of war, That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd When sapless age and weak unable limbs Should bring thy father to his drooping chair O, no; forbear! For that which we have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead I never read but England's kings have had Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives; And our King Henry gives away his own To match with her that brings no vantages proud prelate, in thy face I see thy fury; if I longer stay We shall begin our ancient bickerings Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke Humphrey Dread lord, the commons send you word by me Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death, Or banished fair England's territories, They will by violence tear him from your palace And torture him with grievous ling'ring death Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul! Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold? Is my apparel sumptuous to behold? Whom have I injur'd, that ye seek my death? These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding, This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave A messenger from Henry, our dread liege, To know the reason of these arms in peace; Or why thou, being a subject as I am, Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, Should raise so great a power without his leave, Or dare to bring thy force so near the court Are these thy bears? We'll bait thy bears to death, And manacle the berard in their chains, If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place Well, lords, we have not got that which we have; 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, Being opposites of such repairing nature So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow More than my body's parting with my soul! My love and fear glu'd many friends to thee; And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts, Impairing Henry, strength'ning misproud York A cold premeditation for my purpose! Why, then I do but dream on sovereignty; Like one that stands upon a promontory And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye; And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, Saying he'll lade it dry to have his way- So do I wish the crown, being so far off; And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; And so I say I'll cut the causes off, Flattering me with impossibilities Brother, we will proclaim you out of hand; The bruit thereof will bring you many friends One would take it, That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin Or springhalt reign'd among 'em O, God's will! much better She ne'er had known pomp; though't be temporal, Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging As soul and body's severing SONG Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep or hearing die If we did think His contemplation were above the earth And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still dwell in his musings; but I am afraid His thinkings are below the moon, not worth His serious considering O negligence, Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil Made me put this main secret in the packet I sent the King? Is there no way to cure this? No new device to beat this from his brains? I know 'twill stir him strongly; yet I know A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune, Will bring me off again DUKE OF SUFFOLK, in his robe of estate, his coronet on his head, bearing a long white wand, as High Steward The old DUCHESS OF NORFOLK, in a coronal of gold wrought with flowers, bearing the QUEEN'S train This royal infant-heaven still move about her!- Though in her cradle, yet now promises Upon this land a thousand blessings, Which time shall bring to ripeness I do protest I never lov'd myself Till now infixed I beheld myself Drawn in the flattering table of her eye To solemnize this day the glorious sun Stays in his course and plays the alchemist, Turning with splendour of his precious eye The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold My lord, I rescued her; Her Highness is in safety, fear you not; But on, my liege, for very little pains Will bring this labour to an happy end It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope; But since you are a gentle convertite, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war And make fair weather in your blust'ring land Away, and glister like the god of war When he intendeth to become the field; Show boldness and aspiring confidence Let me work; For I can give his humor the true bent, And I will bring him to the Capitol Grant that, and then is death a benefit; So are we Caesar's friends that have abridged His time of fearing death Their battles are at hand; They mean to warn us at Philippi here, Answering before we do demand of them [To Cordelia] The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, That justly think'st and hast most rightly said! [To Regan and Goneril] And your large speeches may your deeds approve, That good effects may spring from words of love If thou shouldst not be glad, I would divorce me from thy mother's tomb, Sepulchring an adultress If you will come to me (For now I spy a danger), I entreat you To bring but five-and-twenty Though their injunction be to bar my doors And let this tyrannous night take hold upon you, Yet have I ventur'd to come seek you out And bring you where both fire and food is ready Who alone suffers suffers most i' th' mind, Leaving free things and happy shows behind; But then the mind much sufferance doth o'erskip When grief hath mates, and bearing fellowship If there be more, more woful, hold it in; For I am almost ready to dissolve, Hearing of this Berowne is like an envious sneaping frost That bites the first-born infants of the spring 'For Jaquenetta- so is the weaker vessel called, which I apprehended with the aforesaid swain- I keep her as a vessel of thy law's fury; and shall, at the least of thy sweet notice, bring her to trial I do dine to-day at the father's of a certain pupil of mine; where, if, before repast, it shall please you to gratify the table with a grace, I will, on my privilege I have with the parents of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where I will prove those verses to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor invention [To LONGAVILLE] You would for paradise break faith and troth; [To Dumain] And Jove for your love would infringe an oath They are the ground, the books, the academes, From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, When great things labouring perish in their birth When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander; By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might 'Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! WINTER When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl Murther and treason! Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm, awake! Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itself! Up, up, and see The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites To countenance this horror! Ring the bell Would I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words That would be howl'd out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt Come, bring them away; if these be good people in a commonweal that do nothing but use their abuses in common houses, I know no law; bring them away Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; Lay by all nicety and prolixious blushes That banish what they sue for; redeem thy brother By yielding up thy body to my will; Or else he must not only die the death, But thy unkindness shall his death draw out To ling'ring sufferance Twice have the trumpets sounded; The generous and gravest citizens Have hent the gates, and very near upon The Duke is ent'ring; therefore, hence, away O worthy Duke, You bid me seek redemption of the devil! Hear me yourself; for that which I must speak Must either punish me, not being believ'd, Or wring redress from you Why should a man whose blood is warm within Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster, Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio- I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks- There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say 'I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark.' O my Antonio, I do know of these That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing; when, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools I am half yourself, And I must freely have the half of anything That this same paper brings you Madam, although I speak it in your presence, You have a noble and a true conceit Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly In bearing thus the absence of your lord In christ'ning shalt thou have two god-fathers; Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font And yet no matter- why should we go in? My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your music forth into the air [Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear I lost the ring defending it My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and indeed Deserv'd it too; and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine; And neither man nor master would take aught But the two rings If I could add a lie unto a fault, I would deny it; but you see my finger Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone Even so void is your false heart of truth; By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I see the ring If you had known the virtue of the ring, Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, Or your own honour to contain the ring, You would not then have parted with the ring Pardon me, good lady; For by these blessed candles of the night, Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd The ring of me to give the worthy doctor It is petter that friends is the sword and end it; and there is also another device in my prain, which peradventure prings goot discretions with it Go your ways, and ask of Doctor Caius' house which is the way; and there dwells one Mistress Quickly, which is in the manner of his nurse, or his dry nurse, or his cook, or his laundry, his washer, and his wringer Marry, as I told you before, John and Robert, be ready here hard by in the brew-house; and when I suddenly call you, come forth, and, without any pause or staggering, take this basket on your shoulders Nay, you shall hear, Master Brook, what I have suffer'd to bring this woman to evil for your good Devise but how you'll use him when he comes, And let us two devise to bring him thither Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in Another moon; but, O, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a step-dame or a dowager, Long withering out a young man's revenue Through the forest have I gone, But Athenian found I none On whose eyes I might approve This flower's force in stirring love So should the murdered look; and so should I, Pierc'd through the heart with your stern cruelty; Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear, As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, The ear more quick of apprehension makes; Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense, It pays the hearing double recompense Mounsieur Cobweb; good mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand and kill me a red-hipp'd humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag Exeunt FAIRIES So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle Gently entwist; the female ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the elm O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life; he could not have scaped sixpence a day After them enter] Don John [and Borachio (without masks), who stand aside and look on during the dance] Nay, but his jesting spirit, which is new-crept into a lutestring, and now govern'd by stops If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps Enter [Leonato's] brother [Antonio], Hero, Beatrice, Margaret, Ursula, [the ladies wearing masks] Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this But though they jump not on a just account- As in these cases, where the aim reports, 'Tis oft with difference- yet do they all confirm A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus Great Jove, Othello guard, And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits, And bring all Cyprus comfort Nay, good lieutenant! God's will, gentlemen! Help, ho!- Lieutenant- sir- Montano- sir- Help, masters!- Here's a goodly watch indeed! A bell rings The Moor replies That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus And great affinity and that in wholesome wisdom He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you And needs no other suitor but his likings To take the safest occasion by the front To bring you in again I wonder in my soul, What you would ask me, that I should deny, Or stand so mammering on I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, As, I confess, it is my nature's plague To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy Shapes faults that are not- that your wisdom yet, From one that so imperfectly conceits, Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance Besides, I say and will in battle prove- Or here, or elsewhere to the furthest verge That ever was survey'd by English eye- That all the treasons for these eighteen years Complotted and contrived in this land Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, Or seven fair branches springing from one root We see the very wreck that we must suffer; And unavoided is the danger now For suffering so the causes of our wreck Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts, And bring away the armour that is there Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby, Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste Fear and be slain-no worse can come to fight; And fight and die is death destroying death, Where fearing dying pays death servile breath As dissolute as desperate; yet through both I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years May happily bring forth I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock [Advancing] Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out In sharing that which you have pill'd from me I go; and if you plead as well for them As I can say nay to thee for myself, No doubt we bring it to a happy issue On him I lay that you would lay on me- The right and fortune of his happy stars, Which God defend that I should wring from him More bitterly could I expostulate, Save that, for reverence to some alive, I give a sparing limit to my tongue Out on you, owls! Nothing but songs of death? [He strikes him] There, take thou that till thou bring better news Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself, Much about cock-shut time, from troop to troop Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers In brief, for so the season bids us be, Prepare thy battle early in the morning, And put thy fortune to the arbitrement Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse; Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power Rescue, my Lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The King enacts more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger Being held a foe, he may not have access To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear, And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new beloved anywhere; But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial Jesu Maria! What a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste! The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears Well said! Follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams Driving back shadows over low'ring hills And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl, For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging! Such a wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the West And bring in cloudy night immediately Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time, Give me some present counsel; or, behold, 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife Shall play the empire, arbitrating that Which the commission of thy years and art Could to no issue of true honour bring The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea 'Twas told me you were rough, and coy, and sullen, And now I find report a very liar; For thou art pleasant, gamesome, passing courteous, But slow in speech, yet sweet as springtime flowers But I with blowing the fire shall warm myself; for, considering the weather, a taller man than I will take cold Ay, mistress; and Petruchio is the master, That teacheth tricks eleven and twenty long, To tame a shrew and charm her chattering tongue Alack, for pity! I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to't When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me, wouldst give me Water with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night; and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in; you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster Enter TRINCULO Lo, now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly No more dams I'll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing At requiring, Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid- Weak masters though ye be-I have be-dimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war We were dead of sleep, And-how, we know not-all clapp'd under hatches; Where, but even now, with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awak'd; straightway at liberty; Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master Cap'ring to eye her Go you, sir, to the senators, Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have Deserv'd this hearing He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer The worst that man can breathe, And make his wrongs his outsides, To wear them like his raiment, carelessly, And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, To bring it into danger Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, And not endure all threats? Sleep upon't, And let the foes quietly cut their throats, Without repugnancy? If there be Such valour in the bearing, what make we Abroad? Why, then, women are more valiant, That stay at home, if bearing carry it; And the ass more captain than the lion; the fellow Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, If wisdom be in suffering Leak'd is our bark; And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, Hearing the surges threat Consumptions sow In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, And mar men's spurring The senators with one consent of love Entreat thee back to Athens, who have thought On special dignities, which vacant lie For thy best use and wearing My long sickness Of health and living now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness That what we did was mildly as we might, Tend'ring our sister's honour and our own My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad When everything does make a gleeful boast? The birds chant melody on every bush; The snakes lie rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground; Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And while the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise; And- after conflict such as was suppos'd The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed, When with a happy storm they were surpris'd, And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave- We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber, Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurse's song Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison; There let them bide until we have devis'd Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them O, thus I found her straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound But let her rest in her unrest awhile- And now, young lords, was't not a happy star Led us to Rome, strangers, and more than so, Captives, to be advanced to this height? It did me good before the palace gate To brave the Tribune in his brother's hearing I'll bring her to the Grecian presently; And to his hand when I deliver her, Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus A priest, there off'ring to it his own heart And suddenly; where injury of chance Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents Our lock'd embrasures, strangles our dear vows Even in the birth of our own labouring breath Do not chafe thee, cousin; And you, Achilles, let these threats alone Till accident or purpose bring you to't Shall it be? No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, He shall not carry him; I'll be ta'en too, Or bring him off No, indeed, sir; the Lady Olivia has no folly; she will keep no fool, sir, till she be married; and fools are as like husbands as pilchers are to herrings- the husband's the bigger 'By the Lord, fool, I am not mad!' But do you remember- 'Madam, why laugh you at such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's gagg'd'? And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, And manage it against despairing thoughts Enter SILVIA, attended Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you be my mean To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia By mine honour, I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see To bring false generations So please you, madam, To put apart these your attendants, Shall bring Emilia forth Leontes leaving- Th' effects of his fond jealousies so grieving That he shuts up himself- imagine me, Gentle spectators, that I now may be In fair Bohemia; and remember well I mention'd a son o' th' King's, which Florizel I now name to you; and with speed so pace To speak of Perdita, now grown in grace Equal with wond'ring These your unusual weeds to each part of you Do give a life- no shepherdess, but Flora Peering in April's front Is there no manners left among maids? Will they wear their plackets where they should bear their faces? Is there not milking-time, when you are going to bed, or kiln-hole, to whistle off these secrets, but you must be tittle-tattling before all our guests? 'Tis well they are whisp'ring If your more ponderous and settled project May suffer alteration, on mine honour, I'll point you where you shall have such receiving As shall become your Highness; where you may Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see, There's no disjunction to be made but by, As heavens forfend! your ruin- marry her; And with my best endeavours in your absence Your discontenting father strive to qualify, And bring him up to liking Ha, ha! what a fool Honesty is! and Trust, his sworn brother, a very simple gentleman! I have sold all my trumpery; not a counterfeit stone, not a ribbon, glass, pomander, brooch, table-book, ballad, knife, tape, glove, shoe-tie, bracelet, horn-ring, to keep my pack from fasting I am courted now with a double occasion- gold, and a means to do the Prince my master good; which who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him Go, Cleomenes; Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends, Bring them to our embracement O my brother- Good gentleman!- the wrongs I have done thee stir Afresh within me; and these thy offices, So rarely kind, are as interpreters Of my behind-hand slackness! Welcome hither, As is the spring to th' earth This avouches the shepherd's son, who has not only his innocence, which seems much, to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings of his that Paulina knows Enter SHEPHERD and CLOWN Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune So slides he down upon his grained bat, And comely distant sits he by her side; When he again desires her, being sat, Her grievance with his hearing to divide Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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