Imatges de pÓgina


That in the general bosom they do reign
and old, and either sex enchain.

Of young

When rank Thersites opes his mastiff jaws
We shall hear music, wit and oracle.


Set roaring


T.C. i. 8.

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;
And ye, that on the sands with printless foot
Do chace 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 you 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
war to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt: the strong bas'd promontory
Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd ur
The pine and cedar: graves at my command,
Have wak'd their sleepers; ope'd and let them forth
By my so potent art: but this rough magic
I here abjure: and, when I have requir'd
Some heav'nly music (which even now I do)
To work mine end upon their senses, that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I'll drown my book.




I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief,
That the first face of neither, on the start,
Can woman me unto't.


You have seen

T. v. 1,

A. W. iii. 2.

Sunshine and rain at once. Those happy smiles
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd.

K. L. iv. 3.

But, 0, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow


was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined for the
loss of her husband; another elevated that the oracle was
fulfilled; she lifted the princes from the earth; and so
locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her
W.T. v. 2.


He has strangled

His language in his tears.

H.VIII. v. 1.

Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.


For honour travels in a strait so narrow,

M. A. ii. 1.

Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons,

That one by one pursue: If you give way,

Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an entered tide, they all rush by,
And leave you hindmost :-


Or, like a gallant horse fallen in first rank,

Lies there for pavement to the abject rear,

O'er-run and trampled on: Then what they do in present,

Though less than yours in past, must o'er-top yours.


T. C. iii. 3.

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What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?


You have many enemies, that know not
Why they are so; but, like to village curs,
Bark when their fellows do.

M. iv. 1.

H. VIII. ii. 4.

If the enemy is an ass, and a fool, and a prating cox comb, is it meet, think you, that we should also, look you, be an ass, and a fool, and a prating coxcomb?

H.V. iv. 1.


This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;

This fortress built by nature for herself,
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happy lands;

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
(For Christian service, and true chivalry,)
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son:
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it,)
Like to a tenement, or pelting farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds;
That England that was wont to conquer others,
Has made a shameful conquest of itself.

Our sea-wall'd garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choak'd up,
Her fruit-trees all un-prun'd, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars.

R. II. ii. 1.

R. II. iii. 4.

I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders;
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west
Salute thee for her king.

This England never did, (nor never shall)
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.

K. J. ii. 1.

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* *Nought shall make us rue
If England to herself do rest but true.

O England, model to thy inward greatness,
Like little body with a mighty heart,-

K. J. v. 7.

What might'st thou do, that honour would thee do,
Were all thy children kind and natural!
But see thy fault!

H.V. ii. chorus.

O nation, that thou could'st remove!
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore.


Let us be back'd with God, and with the seas,
Which he hath given for fence impregnable,
And with their helps, only, defend ourselves;
In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.


K. J. v. 2.

H. VI. PT. III. iv. 1.

Would I had never trod this English earth,
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it!
Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts!

H. VIII. iii. 1.

The men do sympathize with the mastiffs, in robustious and rough coming on, leaving their wits with their wives; and then give them great meals of beef, and iron, and steel, they will eat like wolves, and fight like devils.


H. V. iii. 7.

Be friends, you English fools, be friends; we have French quarrels enough, if you could tell how to reckon. H.V. iv. 1.


The nightingale in summer's front doth sing,
And stops his pipe in growth of riper days;
Not that the summer is more pleasant now

Then when his mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burdens every bough,

And sweets grown common lose their dear delight.


Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow room. ENMITY.


K. J. v. 7.

If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who should down.

4. Y. i. 2.


Impossible be strange attempts, to those
That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose
What hath been cannot be.

Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms,
Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise
More venturous or desperate than this.

A. W. i. 1.

H. VI. PT. 1. ii. 1.

Know you not, master, to some kind of men
Their graces serve them but as enemies?
No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master,
Are sanctified and holy traitors to you.

O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it!

Lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave.

Now I feel

A. Y. ii. 3.

H.VI. PT. II. iii. 2.

Of what coarse metal ye are moulded,-envy.
How eagerly ye follow my disgraces,

As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton

Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin!
Follow your envious courses, men of malice;

You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt,
In time will find their fit rewards.

My heart laments, that virtue cannot live

Out of the teeth of emulation.

H. VIII. iii. 2.

J.C. ii. 3.

Men, that make

H.VIII. v. 2.

Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment,

Dare bite the best.


Truly, master Holofernes, the epithets are sweetly varied, like a scholar at the least.

L. L. iv. 2.

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A smiling with a sigh: as if the sigh

Was that it was, for not being such a smile;

The smile, mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix

With winds, that sailors rail at.

Thus ready for the way of life or death,

I wait the sharpest blow.

Cym. iv. 2.

P. P. i. l.

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