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Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe.

Romeo and Juliet. Act iii. Sc. 3.

They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.

Ibid. The damned use that word in hell.

Ibid. Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.

Ibid. Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

Ibid. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.

Sc. 5. Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Ibid.

All these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come.

Ibid. Villain and he be many miles asunder.

Ibid. Thank me no thanks, nor proud me no prouds. Ibid. Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. Act iv. Sc. 2. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne. Act v. Sc. 1. I do remember an apothecary, — And hereabouts he dwells.

Ibid. Meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.

Ibid. A beggarly account of empty boxes.

Ibid. Famine is in thy cheeks.

Ibid. The world is not thy friend nor the world's law. Ibid. Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents. Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Ibid. The strength Of twenty men.

Ibid. One writ with me in sour misfortune's book.

Sc. 3.

Her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.

Romeo and Juliet. Act v. Sc. 3.

Beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

Eyes, look your last !
Arms, take your last embrace !

Ibid. But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.

Timon of Athens. Act i. Sc. 1. Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, — honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.

Sc. 2. Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; I pray for no man but myself; Grant I may never prove so fond, To trust man on his oath or bond.

Ibid. Men shut their doors against a setting sun.


Every room
Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy.

Act ii. Sc. 2. 'T is lack of kindly warmth.

Ibid. Every man has his fault, and honesty is his. Act iii. Sc. 1. Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

Sc. 5. We have seen better days.

Act iv. Sc. 2. Are not within the leaf of pity writ.

Sc. 3. I'll example you with thievery: The sun 's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea; the moon 's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun; The sea 's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears; the earth 's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement: each thing's a thief. Ibid. Life's uncertain voyage.

Act v. Sc. 1.

As proper men as ever trod upon neat's leather.

Julius Cæsar. Act i. Sc. 1. The live-long day.

Ibid. Beware the ides of March.

Sc, 2. Well, honour is the subject of my story. I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be as live to be In awe of such a thing as I myself.

Ibid. “Darest thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ? " Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow,

Ibid. Help me, Cassius, or I sink!

Ibid. Ye gods, it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.

Ibid. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus, and we petty men Walk under his huge legs and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates : The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

Ibid. Conjure with 'em, Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar. Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, That he is grown so great ? Age, thou art shamed ! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! Ibid. There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome As easily as a king.


Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights :
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much : such men are dangerous.

Julius Cæsar. Act i. Sc. 2.

He reads much; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men.

Ibid. Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort As if he mock'd himself, and scorn'd his spirit That could be moved to smile at anything.

Ibid. But, for my own part, it was Greek to me.

Ibid. 'T is a common proof, That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face ; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend.

Act ü. Sc. 1. Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : The Genius and the mortal instruments Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection.

Ibid. A dish fit for the gods.

Ibid. But when I tell him he hates flatterers, He says he does, being then most flattered.

Ibid. Boy ! Lucius ! Fast asleep? It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber : Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep’st so sound.


1 “Utmost” in Singer.

With an angry wafture of your hand, Gave sign for me to leave you. Julius Cæsar. Act ii. Sc. 1. You are my true and honourable wife, As dear to me as are the ruddy drops 1 That visit my sad heart.

Ibid. Think

you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded ?

Ibid. Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol.

Sc. 2. These things are beyond all use, And I do fear them.

Ibid. When beggars die, there are no comets seen ; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

Ibid. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.


Act iii. Sc. 1.


Cæs. The ides of March are come.
Sooth. Ay, Cæsar; but not gone.
But I am constant as the northern star,
Of whose true-fixʼd and resting quality
There is no fellow in the firmament.
Et tu, Brute !

How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
The choice and master spirits of this age.




1 Dear as the ruddy drops that warm my heart. — Gray: The Bard, i. 3, line 12.

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