All of Shakespeare’s plays. More…
Come, poor babe: I have heard, but not believed, the spirits o' the dead May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother Appear'd to me last night, for ne'er was dream So like a waking. To me comes a creature, Sometimes her head on one side, some ...
Go thou away: I'll follow instantly.
Their sacred wills be done! Go, get aboard; Look to thy bark: I'll not be long before I call upon thee.
Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon The deserts of Bohemia?
I swear to do this, though a present death Had been more merciful. Come on, poor babe: Some powerful spirit instruct the kites and ravens To be thy nurses! Wolves and bears, they say Casting their savageness aside have done Like offices of pity. Sir, be prosperous In more than ...
I will, my lord.
Any thing, my lord, That my ability may undergo And nobleness impose: at least thus much: I'll pawn the little blood which I have left To save the innocent: any thing possible.
I did not, sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, Can clear me in't.
Hang all the husbands That cannot do that feat, you'll leave yourself Hardly one subject.
I am none, by this good light.
La you now, you hear: When she will take the rein I let her run; But she'll not stumble.
I told her so, my lord, On your displeasure's peril and on mine, She should not visit you.
That's enough.
Aside To laughter, as I take it, If the good truth were known.
And I wish, my liege, You had only in your silent judgment tried it, Without more overture.
If it be so, We need no grave to bury honesty: There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten Of the whole dungy earth.
It is for you we speak, not for ourselves: You are abused and by some putter-on That will be damn'd for't; would I knew the villain, I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd, I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven The second and the third, nine ...
If it prove She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her; Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her; For every inch of woman in the world, Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is ...
Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice Prove violence; in the which three great ones suffer, Yourself, your queen, your son.