Quotes by William Shakespeare

lov’d you ever. But it is no matter. Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew, and dog will have his day. [_Exit._] KING. I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him. [_Exit Horatio._] [_To Laertes_] Strengthen your patience in our last night’s speech; We’ll put the matter to the present push.— Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. This grave shall have a living monument. An hour of quiet shortly shall we see; Till then in patience our proceeding be. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A hall in the Castle. Enter Hamlet and Horatio. HAMLET. So much for this, sir. Now let me see the other; You do remember all the circumstance? HORATIO. Remember it, my lord! HAMLET. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay Worse than the mutinies in the bilboes. Rashly, And prais’d be rashness for it,—let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well, When our deep plots do pall; and that should teach us There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. HORATIO. That is most certain. HAMLET. Up from my cabin, My sea-gown scarf’d about me, in the dark Grop’d I to find out them; had my desire, Finger’d their packet, and in fine, withdrew To mine own room again, making so bold, My fears forgetting manners, to unseal Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio, Oh royal knavery! an exact command, Larded with many several sorts of reasons, Importing Denmark’s health, and England’s too, With ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, That on the supervise, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the axe, My head should be struck off. HORATIO. Is’t possible? HAMLET. Here’s the commission, read it at more leisure. But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed? HORATIO. I beseech you. HAMLET. Being thus benetted round with villanies,— Or I could make a prologue to my brains, They had begun the play,—I sat me down, Devis’d a new commission, wrote it fair: I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labour’d much How to forget that learning; but, sir, now It did me yeoman’s service.

Now, then, we’ll use His countenance for the battle; which being done, Let her who would be rid of him devise His speedy taking off. As for the mercy Which he intends to Lear and to Cordelia, The battle done, and they within our power, Shall never see his pardon: for my state Stands on me to defend, not to debate. [_Exit._] SCENE II. A field between the two Camps Alarum within. Enter with drum and colours, Lear, Cordelia and their Forces, and exeunt. Enter Edgar and Gloucester. EDGAR. Here, father, take the shadow of this tree For your good host; pray that the right may thrive: If ever I return to you again, I’ll bring you comfort. GLOUCESTER. Grace go with you, sir! [_Exit Edgar._] Alarum and retreat within. Enter Edgar. EDGAR. Away, old man, give me thy hand, away! King Lear hath lost, he and his daughter ta’en: Give me thy hand; come on! GLOUCESTER. No further, sir; a man may rot even here. EDGAR. What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither; Ripeness is all. Come on. GLOUCESTER. And that’s true too. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. The British Camp near Dover Enter in conquest with drum and colours, Edmund, Lear and Cordelia as prisoners; Officers, Soldiers, &c. EDMUND. Some officers take them away: good guard Until their greater pleasures first be known That are to censure them. CORDELIA. We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurr’d the worst. For thee, oppressed King, I am cast down; Myself could else out-frown false fortune’s frown. Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters? LEAR. No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage: When thou dost ask me blessing I’ll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too, Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out; And take upon’s the mystery of things, As if we were God’s spies.

I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so sweet a breath to sing, as the fool has. In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night when thou spok’st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; ’twas very good, i’ faith. I sent thee sixpence for thy leman. Hadst it? CLOWN. I did impeticos thy gratillity; for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock. My lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses. SIR ANDREW. Excellent! Why, this is the best fooling, when all is done. Now, a song. SIR TOBY. Come on, there is sixpence for you. Let’s have a song. SIR ANDREW. There’s a testril of me too: if one knight give a— CLOWN. Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life? SIR TOBY. A love-song, a love-song. SIR ANDREW. Ay, ay. I care not for good life. CLOWN. [_sings._] _O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear, your true love’s coming, That can sing both high and low. Trip no further, pretty sweeting. Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man’s son doth know._ SIR ANDREW. Excellent good, i’ faith. SIR TOBY. Good, good. CLOWN. _What is love? ’Tis not hereafter, Present mirth hath present laughter. What’s to come is still unsure. In delay there lies no plenty, Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty. Youth’s a stuff will not endure._ SIR ANDREW. A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight. SIR TOBY. A contagious breath. SIR ANDREW. Very sweet and contagious, i’ faith. SIR TOBY. To hear by the nose, it is dulcet in contagion. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall we rouse the night-owl in a catch that will draw three souls out of one weaver? Shall we do that? SIR ANDREW. And you love me, let’s do’t: I am dog at a catch. CLOWN. By’r lady, sir, and some dogs will catch well. SIR ANDREW. Most certain. Let our catch be, “Thou knave.” CLOWN. “Hold thy peace, thou knave” knight? I shall be constrain’d in’t to call thee knave, knight. SIR ANDREW. ’Tis not the first time I have constrained one to call me knave.

The mayor and all his brethren in best sort, Like to the senators of th’ antique Rome, With the plebeians swarming at their heels, Go forth and fetch their conquering Caesar in; As, by a lower but loving likelihood, Were now the general of our gracious empress, As in good time he may, from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him! Much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry. Now in London place him; As yet the lamentation of the French Invites the King of England’s stay at home, The Emperor’s coming in behalf of France, To order peace between them;—and omit All the occurrences, whatever chanc’d, Till Harry’s back-return again to France. There must we bring him; and myself have play’d The interim, by rememb’ring you ’tis past. Then brook abridgement, and your eyes advance After your thoughts, straight back again to France. [_Exit._] SCENE I. France. The English camp. Enter Fluellen and Gower. GOWER. Nay, that’s right; but why wear you your leek today? Saint Davy’s day is past. FLUELLEN. There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things. I will tell you ass my friend, Captain Gower. The rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek. It was in a place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires. Enter Pistol. GOWER. Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock. FLUELLEN. ’Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks. God pless you, Anchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you! PISTOL. Ha! art thou bedlam? Dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca’s fatal web? Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek. FLUELLEN. I peseech you heartily, scurfy, lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek.

Enter Antony, Octavius, Messala, Lucilius and the Army. OCTAVIUS. What man is that? MESSALA. My master’s man. Strato, where is thy master? STRATO. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala. The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself, And no man else hath honour by his death. LUCILIUS. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus, That thou hast prov’d Lucilius’ saying true. OCTAVIUS. All that serv’d Brutus, I will entertain them. Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? STRATO. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. OCTAVIUS. Do so, good Messala. MESSALA. How died my master, Strato? STRATO. I held the sword, and he did run on it. MESSALA. Octavius, then take him to follow thee, That did the latest service to my master. ANTONY. 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!” OCTAVIUS. According to his virtue let us use him With all respect and rites of burial. Within my tent his bones tonight shall lie, Most like a soldier, order’d honourably. So call the field to rest, and let’s away, To part the glories of this happy day. [_Exeunt._] THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEAR Contents ACT I Scene I. A Room of State in King Lear’s Palace Scene II. A Hall in the Earl of Gloucester’s Castle Scene III. A Room in the Duke of Albany’s Palace Scene IV. A Hall in Albany’s Palace Scene V. Court before the Duke of Albany’s Palace ACT II Scene I. A court within the Castle of the Earl of Gloucester Scene II. Before Gloucester’s Castle Scene III. The open Country Scene IV. Before Gloucester’s Castle ACT III Scene I. A Heath Scene II. Another part of the heath Scene III. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle Scene IV. A part of the Heath with a Hovel Scene V. A Room in Gloucester’s Castle Scene VI. A Chamber in a Farmhouse adjoining the Castle Scene VII.

Let’s away, And get our jewels and our wealth together, Devise the fittest time and safest way To hide us from pursuit that will be made After my flight. Now go we in content To liberty, and not to banishment. [_Exeunt._] ACT II SCENE I. The Forest of Arden Enter Duke Senior, Amiens and two or three Lords, dressed as foresters. DUKE SENIOR. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we not the penalty of Adam, The seasons’ difference, as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter’s wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say: “This is no flattery. These are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.” Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything. AMIENS. I would not change it. Happy is your grace, That can translate the stubbornness of fortune Into so quiet and so sweet a style. DUKE SENIOR. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, Being native burghers of this desert city, Should in their own confines with forked heads Have their round haunches gored. FIRST LORD. Indeed, my lord, The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, And in that kind swears you do more usurp Than doth your brother that hath banished you. Today my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood; To the which place a poor sequestered stag, That from the hunter’s aim had ta’en a hurt, Did come to languish; and indeed, my lord, The wretched animal heaved forth such groans That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat Almost to bursting, and the big round tears Coursed one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase.

Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony. Do grace to Caesar’s corpse, and grace his speech Tending to Caesar’s glories, which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow’d to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. [_Exit._] FIRST CITIZEN. Stay, ho! and let us hear Mark Antony. THIRD CITIZEN. Let him go up into the public chair. We’ll hear him. Noble Antony, go up. ANTONY. For Brutus’ sake, I am beholding to you. [_Goes up._] FOURTH CITIZEN. What does he say of Brutus? THIRD CITIZEN. He says, for Brutus’ sake He finds himself beholding to us all. FOURTH CITIZEN. ’Twere best he speak no harm of Brutus here! FIRST CITIZEN. This Caesar was a tyrant. THIRD CITIZEN. Nay, that’s certain. We are blest that Rome is rid of him. SECOND CITIZEN. Peace! let us hear what Antony can say. ANTONY. You gentle Romans,— CITIZENS. Peace, ho! let us hear him. ANTONY. Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious. If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, For Brutus is an honourable man, So are they all, all honourable men, Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And sure he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know.