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You shall be as a father to my youth ;
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practis’d, wise directions. H. IV. PT. II. v. 2.
My other self, my counsel's consistory,
My oracle, my prophet 1-My dear cousin,
I, as a child, will go by thy directions. R. III. ii. 2.
TO THE Laws.
If the deed were ill,
you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought;
To pluck down justice from your awful bench;
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person :
Nay, more; to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours ;
Be now the father, and propose a son:
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd;
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
And then imagine me taking your part,
And, in your power, soft silencing your son.
H.IV. PT. II. v. 2.
Of sufferance comes ease.
H. IV. PT. II. v. 4. SUFFERING, UNJUST.
Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,
The gods themselves throw incense.
K. L. v. 3.
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
When triumph is become an ale-house guest ? R. II. v. 1. SUICIDE (See also CONSCIENCE).
There is a prohibition so divine,
That cravens my weak hand.
Cym. iii. 4.
To be, or not to be, that is the question :-
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrageous fortune;
Or, to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them ? To die,—to sleep, —
No more ;-and, by sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die ;-to sleep ;-
To sleep! perchance to dream ; ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death
what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect,
That makes calamity of so long life: ,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin ? Who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of something after death, -
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,-puzzles the will ;
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others, that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action,
H. ii. 1.
Even by the rule of that philosophy,
By which I did blame Cato for the death
Which he did give himself:-I know not how,
But I do find it cowardly and vile,
For fear of what might fall, so to prevent
The time of life:-arming myself with patience,
To stay the providence of some high powers,
That govern us below.
J.C. v. 1.
He is dead:
Not by a public minister of justice,
Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand
Which writ his honour in the acts it did,
Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it,
Splitted the heart.
All's but naught;
Patience is sottish; and impatience does
Become a dog that's mad : Then is it sin,
To rush into the secret house of death,
Ere death dare come to us ?
A.C. iv. 13. The more pity, that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian.
H. v. 1.
My desolation does begin to make
A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Cæsar;
Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave,
A minister of her will: And it is great
To do that thing which ends all other deeds;
Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change. A.C. v.2.
Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.
J.C. i. 3.
Every bondman in his own hand bears
The power to cancel his captivity.
J.C. i. 3. SUN SETTING.
The weary sun hath made a golden set,
And, by the bright track of his fiery car
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow.
R. III. v. 3.
But even this night,—whose black contagious breath
Already smokes about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,-
Even this night your breathing shall expire. K. J. v. 4. SUPERFLUITY.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
K. J. iv. 2.
To the snow-white hand of the most beautiful Lady Rosaline.
L. L. iv. 2. SUPERSTITION.
Look how the world's poor people are amaz'd
At apparitions, signs, and prodigies !
The superstitious idle-headed eld
Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,
This tale of Herne the hunter for a truth. M.W. iv. 4. SUPPLICATION.
A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
With them, upon her knees, her humble self,
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them,
As iť but now they waxed pale for woe. T.G. ii. 1.
Is not this a lamentable thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment ? That parchment being scribbled o'er, should undo a man? Some say, the bee stings: but I say, 'tis the bee's wax: for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.
H. VI. PT. II. iv. 2. SURFEIT.
A surfeit of the sweetest things,
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings. M. N. ï. 3.
The murmuring surge,
That on the unnumber'd idle pebbles chafes,
Cannot be heard so high.
K. L. iv. 6. SURLY COUNTENANCE.
The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye.
K. J. iv. 2.
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
H. VI. PT. III. v. 6.
Indeed! ay, indeed: Discern’st thou aught in that?
Is he not honest ?
0. ii. 3.
It is a damned ghost that we have seen;
And my imaginations are as foul
As Vulcan's stithy.
H. üi, 2.
Shall be all stuck full of eyes.
H. IV. PT. I. v. 2.
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.
0. ii. 3. Foul whisperings are abroad.
M. v. 1. SWEARING.
For it comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him.
T. N. iii. 4. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers by to curtail his oaths.
Cym. ii. 1. And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.
Cym. ii. 1. I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
T. ii. 2.
Your words, they rob the Hybla bees,
And leave them honeyless.
J.C. v. 1. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion sour. R. II. i. 3. SWIMMING.
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him ; I not doubt,
He came alive to land.
T. ii. 1.
Upon the word,
Accoutred as I was, I plunged in,
And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did.
The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it
With lusty sinews; throwing it aside
And stemming it with hearts of controversy. J.C. i. 2.
A sword employ'd is perilous.
T. C. ii. 2. I have a sword, and it shall bite upon necessity. M.W. ii. 1. SWORDSMEN.
Bodykins, master Page, though I now be old, and of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one: though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, master
Page, we have some salt of our youth in us. M.W. ii. 3. SYMPATHY.
You are merry, and so am I; Ha! ha! then there's more sympathy: you love sack, and so do I ;-would you desire better sympathy ?
M.W. ii. 1.
Grief best is pleas'd with grief's society.
True sorrow then is feelingly surpris'd
When with like feeling it is sympathis’d.
Companionship in woe, doth woe assuage.
Sweets with sweets war not; joy delights in joy. Poems.
Ay, sooth ; so humbled,
That he hath left part of his grief with me;
I suffer with him.
0. iii. 3.
Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops.
T. v. 1.