Obrazy na stronie
PDF
ePub

Forty thousand brothers

Could not, with all their quantity of love,

Make up my sum.

Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 1.

Nay, an thou 'lt mouth,

I'll rant as well as thou.

Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act v. Sc. 2.

[blocks in formation]

What imports the nomination of this gentleman? Ibid.

The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we could carry cannon by our sides.

'T is the breathing time of day with me.

Ibid.

Ibid.

There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 't is not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he leaves, what is 't to leave betimes?

Ibid.

[blocks in formation]

This fell sergeant, death,

Is strict in his arrest.

Hamlet. Act v. Sc. 2.

Report me and my cause aright.

Ibid.

I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.

Ibid.

[blocks in formation]

A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue

As I am glad I have not.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.

As if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion.

Act i. Sc. 2.

That which ordinary men are fit for, I am qualified in; and the best of me is diligence.

Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend!

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!

Striving to better, oft we mar what 's well.

Down, thou climbing sorrow,

Thy element 's below!

Act i. Sc. 4.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

[blocks in formation]

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

Act iii. Sc. 2.

I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness.

A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man.

Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulged crimes,
Unwhipped of justice.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

[blocks in formation]

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these?

Ibid.

[blocks in formation]

But mice and rats, and such small deer,

Have been Tom's food for seven long year.

Ibid.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.

Poor Tom 's a-cold.

King Lear. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Ibid.

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban. Ibid.

Child Rowland to the dark tower came,

His word was still, - Fie, foh, and fum,
I smell the blood of a British man.

The little dogs and all,

Ibid.

Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.

Mastiff, greyhound, mongrel grim,

Hound or spaniel, brach or lym,

Or bobtail tike or trundle-tail.

Act iii. Sc. 6.

Ibid.

I am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course.

The lowest and most dejected thing of fortune.

The worst is not

So long as we can say, 'This is the worst.'

Act iii. Sc. 7.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

Patience and sorrow strove

Who should express her goodliest.

Half way down

Act iv. Sc. 3.

Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!

Methinks he seems no bigger than his head:

The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,
Appear like mice.

Nature's above art in that respect.

Ay, every inch a king.

Act iv. Sc. 6.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to

sweeten my imagination.

Ibid.

A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yond simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief? King Lear. Act iv. Sc. 6.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Mine enemy's dog,

Ibid.

Though he had bit me, should have stood that night

Against my fire.

Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia,

Act iv. Sc. 7.

The gods themselves throw incense.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices

Make instruments to plague us.

Her voice was ever soft,

Act v. Sc. 3.

Gentle, and low, an excellent thing in woman.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him much

That would upon the rack of this tough world

Stretch him out longer.

Ibid.

That never set a squadron in the field,

Nor the division of a battle knows. Othello. Act i. Sc. 1.

[blocks in formation]
« PoprzedniaDalej »