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Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.
To-morrow. Tomorrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays, have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life’s but a walking shadow : a poor player, That struts and frets his hour
MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
with these contrived To bait me with this foul derision ? Is all the counsel, that we two have shared,
The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent,
Poetic Imaginings. Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact : One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name.
MUCH ADO ABOUT
A Proud Woman.
Hero and URSULA.
Hero. Nature never framed a woman's heart
Urs. Sure, I think so;
Hero. Why, you speak truth : I never yet saw man,
Urs. Sure, sure, such carping is not commendable.
Hero. No: not to be so odd, and from all fashions, As Beatrice is, cannot be commendable : But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Maternal Grief and Love. (Arthur, Son of GEFFREY, elder Brother of King John, and rightful
Heir to the Throne of England, has been taken Prisoner by the Eng
lish.) King Philip of France, Cardinal Pandulph, Constance,
mother of Arthur. K. Philip. Look, who comes here ! a grave unto a soul ; Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, In the vile prison of afflicted breath :I pr’ythee, lady, go away with me.
Constance. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace !
Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
And be a carrion monster like thyself:
K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace.
Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry :-O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
Pandulph. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
Const. Thou art not holy, to belie me so;
K. Phi. Bind up those tresses.
Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud,