William Shakespeare: A Critical Study, Volume 1

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Page 219 - Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o
Page 223 - I am not yet of Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north ; he that kills me some six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife ' Fie upon this quiet life ! I want work.
Page 382 - This was the noblest Roman of them all: All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He, only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him, that Nature might stand up, And say to all the world, This was a man!
Page 81 - That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), Flying between the cold moon and the earth, Cupid all arm'd : a certain aim he took At a fair vestal throned by the west, And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft Quench'd in the chaste beams of the watery moon, And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free.
Page 82 - With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries ; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And, for night-tapers, crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glowworm's eyes...
Page 381 - If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent ; That day he overcame the Nervii. Look, in this place ran Cassius...
Page 278 - Halloo your name to the reverberate hills And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out ' Olivia ! ' O, you should not rest Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me ! Oli. You might do much.
Page 201 - Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.
Page 355 - Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove : O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth "s unknown, although his height be taken.
Page 147 - Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed king ; The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord.

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