Hamlet-Continued.

Act v. Sc. 1.

To what base uses we may return, Horatio!

Act v. Sc. 1.

Imperial Cæsar, dead, and turned to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Sir, though I am not splenetive and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous.

Act v. Sc. 1.

The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.

Act v. Sc. 2.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.

Act v. Sc. 2.

There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.

Act v. Sc. 2.

A hit, a very palpable hit.

OTHELLO.

Act i. Sc. 1.

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve

For daws to peck at.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Most potent, grave, and reverend seigniors.

Othello-Continued.

Act i. Sc. 3.

The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more.

Act i. Sc. 3.

I will a round, unvarnished tale deliver
Of my whole course of love.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents, by flood and field,

Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach.

Act i. Sc. 3.

My story being done,

She gave me for my pains a world of sighs:

She swore,

In faith, 't was strange, 't was passing strange; 'Twas pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful:

She wished she had not heard it; yet she wished
That Heaven had made her such a man.

Othello - Continued.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

Iago. To suckle fools, and chronicle small beer.
Des. O most lame and impotent conclusion!

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Silence that dreadful bell; it frights the isle
From her propriety.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!

Act ii. Sc. 3.

O that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains!

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Perdition catch my soul,

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,

Chaos is come again.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord,

Is the immediate jewel of their souls.

Who steals my purse, steals trash; 't is something,

nothing;

"T was mine, 't is his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name

Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy;

Othello-Continued.

It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock

The meat it feeds on.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

If I do prove her haggard,

Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings,

I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind

To prey at fortune.

Into the vale of years.

Declined

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Trifles, light as air,

Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong

As proofs of holy writ.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Not poppy, nor mandragora,

Nor all the drowsy sirups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ow'dst yesterday.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

He that is robbed, not wanting what is stolen,
Let him not know it, and he's not robbed at all.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

O, now, for ever,

Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O farewell!

Othello-Continued.

Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife.

Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

But, alas! to make me

The fixed figure for the time of scorn

To point his slow, and moving finger at.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world.

Act iv. Sc. 3.

'Tis neither here nor there.

Act v. Sc. 1.

He hath a daily beauty in his life.