The plays of william shakespeare.

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Page 202 - Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit/ and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her...
Page 240 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment ; and what judgment Would step from this to this ? Sense, sure, you have.
Page 255 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Page 27 - She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the forefinger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Page 230 - ... stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Page 165 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres...
Page 29 - 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...
Page 344 - My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty: To you I am bound for life, and education; My life, and education, both do learn me How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty, I am hitherto your daughter: But here's my husband; And so much duty as my mother show'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor, my lord.
Page 41 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
Page 469 - No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice...

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