A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing jack,
That thinks with oaths to face the matter out.

I know them, yea,

And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple:
Scambling, out-facing, fashion-mong'ring boys,
That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander,
Go antickly, and show outward hideousness,
And speak off half-a-dozen dangerous words,
How they might hurt their enemies, if they durst,
And this is all.

A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,

A boar-spear in my hand; and (in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will)
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside;
As many other mannish cowards have,

That do outface it with their semblances.

I'll turn two mincing steps Into a manly stride: and speak of frays Like a fine bragging youth and tell quaint lies, How honourable ladies sought my love,


Which I denying, they fell sick and dy'd:
I could not do with all :-then I will repent,
And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them:
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,

That men shall swear, I have discontinued school
Above a twelvemonth.


Since brevity is the soul of wit,

And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,

I will be brief.


None does offend, none, I

say none; I'll able 'em : Take that of me, my friend, who have the power To seal the accuser's lips.

The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law :
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself

Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;
To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers.

What, shall one of us,

That struck the foremost man of all this world,
But for supporting robbers; shall we now
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes?
And sell the mighty space of our large honours,
For so much trash, as may be grasped thus ?
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,
Than such a Roman.



You have ungently, Brutus,

Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper,
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing, and sighing, with your arms across :
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.


Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
And welcome, Somerset :-I hold it cowardice,
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love.


The wound of peace is surety,

Surety secure; but modest doubt is called
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To the bottom of the worst.

It seems, it is as proper to our age

To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions,

As it is common for the

To lack discretion.

younger sort

Trust none

For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes,
And hold-fast is the only dog.

Be advis'd;
Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot
That it doth singe yourself: We may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running. Know you not,
The fire, that mounts the liquor till it run o'er,
In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis'd.

When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks;
When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand;
When the sun sets, who doth not look for night?
Untimely storms make men expect a dearth:
All may be well; but, if God sort it so,
'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.




I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly,
Unless a brother should a brother dare
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.

Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak,
My body shall make good upon this earth,

my divine soul answer it in heaven. Thou art a traitor and a miscreant.


For his bounty,

There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas,

That grew the more by reaping.

Take physic, pomp;

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel;

That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And shew the heavens more just.


The stealth of our most mutual entertainment, With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.

Almost at fainting, under

The pleasing punishment that women bear.


At first, the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

The whining school boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.


Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive,
If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.

Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face;

These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his :
This little abstract doth contain that large,
Which dy'd in Geffrey: and the hand of time
Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.

Behold, my Lords,

Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father: eye, nose, lip,

The trick of his frown, his forehead; nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin, and cheek; his smiles;
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.

The royal tree hath left us royal fruit,
Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,
Will well become the seat of majesty,
And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.

Hath he set bounds between their love and me?
I am their mother, who shall bar me from them?

The poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,


young ones in her nest, against the owl.

Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their Sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight.
O, 'tis a parlous boy;

Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable;
He's all the mother's, from the top to toe.

Father cardinal, I have heard you say,

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:


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