Imatges de pàgina

The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

H. v. 1. DELIGHTS.

All delights are vain; but that most vain,
Which, with pain purchas’d, doth inherit pain. L. L. 1. 1.
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume; the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.


O vanity of sickness ! fierce extremes,
In their continuance will not feel themselves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them insensible ; and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of strange fantasies ;
Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sing.
I am the cygnet to this pale-fac'd swan,
Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death ;
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings
IIis soul and body to their lasting rest.

K. J. v. 7. DELUSION (See also ILLUSION).

'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing,
Which the brain makes of fumes : our very eyes
Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Cym. iv. 2.

Oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths ;
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepest consequence.

M. i. 3.
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense ;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.

M. v. 7.
Why, thou hast put him in such a dream, that, when the
image of it leaves him, he must run mad. T. N. ii. 5.
Thus may poor fools believe false teachers. Cym. iii. 4.
This is the very coinage of your brain ;
This bodiless creation extacy
Is very cunning in.

H. iii. 4. DELUSION,-continued.

Alas, how is't with you ?
That you do bend your eyes on vacancy,
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ? H. ii. 4.
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place ;
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen.

H. iii. 4
Indeed, it is a strange disposed time:
But men may construe things after their fashion,
Clean from the purpose of the things themselves,


And is this all ?
Then, oh, you blessed ministers above,
Keep me in patience; and, with ripen'd time,
Unfold the evil which is here wrapp'd up
In countenance !


You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings ;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
Would draw heaven down, and all the gods to bearken;
But, being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh à chime.


What our contempts do often hurl from us,
We wish it ours again.

A.C. i. 2. DEPUTY.

A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters.

M.V. v. 1.
In our remove, be thou at full ourself;
Mortality and mercy in Vienna
Live in thy tongue and heart.


A sight most pitiful in the meanest wretch ;
Past speaking of in a king.


I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs; I have drawn her picture with my voice.

P. P. iv. 3. O, he hath drawn my picture in his letter !


A maid
That paragons description, and wild fame;

DESDEMONA, --continued.

One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
And in the essential vesture of creation,
Does bear all excellency.

0. ii. 1.
Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,
The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,-
Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-
As having sense of beauty, do omit
Their mortal natures, letting go safely by
The divine Desdemona.

0. ii. 1. DESERT.

Use every man according to his desert, and who shall escape whipping ? use them after your own honour and dignity : the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.

H. ii. 2.
0, your desert speaks loud; and I should wrong it,
To lock it in the wards of covert bosom,
When it deserves, with characters of brass,
A forted residence, 'gainst the tooth of time,
And razure of oblivion.

M. M. v. 1. But let desert in pure election shine. Tit. And. i. 1. DESERTION.

Him did you leave,
Second to none, unseconded by you. H. IV. PT. 11. ii. 2.

We call a nettle but a nettle ; and
The faults of fools but folly.

C. ii. 1. DESIRE.

The cloyed will
(That satiate jet unsatisfied desire,
That tub both filld and running) ravening first
The lamb, longs after for the garbage.

Cym. i. 7.
Happy! but most miserable
Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills
Which seasons comfort.


I, an old turtle,
Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there
My mate, that's never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.

W.T. v. 3.
Then was I as a tree
Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night,
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will,


Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to wither.

Cym. iii. 3.
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity,
No friends, no hope ; no kindred weep for me,
Almost no grave allow'd me ;-like the lily,
That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd,
I'll hang my head and perish.

H. VIII. iii. 1.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see,
But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ?
And what cheer there for welcome but my groans ?
Therefore commend me, let him not come there,
To reek out sorrow that dwells every where :
Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die ;

The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. R. II. i. 2. DESPAIR.

There's nothing in this world can make me joy
Life is as tedious as a twice told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

K. J. iii. 4.
I will despair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope ; he is a flatterer,
A parasite, a keeper back of death,
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
Which false hope lingers in extremity. R. II. ii. 2.

Now let not Nature's hand
Keep the wild flood confin'd! Let order die !
And let this world no longer be a stage,
To feed contention in a lingering act;
But let one spirit of the first-born Cain
Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set
On bloody courses, the rude scene may end,
And darkness be the burier of the dead. H. IV. PT. II. i. 1.
O sovereign mistress of true melancholy,
The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me;
That life, a very rebel to my will,
May hang no longer on me; throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault;
Which, being, dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts.

A.C. iv. 9.
I pull in resolution ; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth..

M. v. 5.
O, I am fortune's fool!

R. J. iii. 1. DESPAIR,-continued.

I shall despair.—There is no creature loves me;
And, if I die, no soul will pity me ;-
Nay, wherefore should they ? 'since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself.

R. III. v. 3.
For now I stand as one upon a rock,
Environ'd with a wilderness of sea ;
Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when some envious surge
Will, in his brinish bowels, swallow him. Tit. And, iii. 1.
They have tied me to the stake, I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.

M. v. 7.
Take the hint
Which my despair proclaims ; let that be left
Which leaves itself.

A.C. ii. 9.
I’gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the estate of the world were now undone. M. v.5.
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair.

C. ii. 3.
My very hairs do mutiny; for the white
Reprove the brown for rashness; and they them
For fear and doting.

A.C. iii. 9. DESPATCH.

If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly.

M. i. 7. Come, to the forge with it then; shape it; I would not have things cool.

M.W. iv. 2.
It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

0. v. 1. Briefness, and fortune, work.

K. L. ii. 1. We must do something, and i' the heat. K. L. i. 1. DESPERATION.

Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury; but for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

M. v. 2.
Fortune knows,
We scorn her most when most she offers blows. A.C. iii. 9.

Whip me, ye devils,
From the possession of this heavenly sight!
Blow me about in winds ! roast me in sulphur!
Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire !
O Desdemona!

0. v. 2

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