2nji/Shakespeare_Corpus · Datasets at Hugging Face

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LADY CAPULET: He is a kinsman to the Montague; Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP: More health and happiness betide my liege Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him!
ANTONIO: He misses not much.
VOLUMNIA: Now, pray, sir, get you gone: You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all.
DUKE OF YORK: Against them both my true joints bended be. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
KING RICHARD II: The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
EDWARD: Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain The flower of Europe for his chivalry; And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. Now my soul's palace is become a prison: Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest! For never henceforth shall I joy again, Never, O never shall I see more joy!
First Citizen: Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.
GLOUCESTER: I'll hear no more: die, prophet in thy speech: For this amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Many and hearty thankings to you both. We have made inquiry of you; and we hear Such goodness of your justice, that our soul Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, Forerunning more requital.
ANGELO:
ISABELLA: Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence, So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhor to name, Or else thou diest to-morrow.
TRANIO: 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.
First Servingman: A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.
LUCIO: That's the way; for women are light at midnight.
JULIET: Can heaven be so envious?
CAMILLO: I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.
MENENIUS: Well, and say that Marcius Return me, as Cominius is return'd, Unheard; what then? But as a discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness? say't be so?
ISABELLA: Doth he so seek his life?
ESCALUS: My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour Than at the strangeness of it.
Second Murderer: O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show him our commission; talk no more.
RICHMOND: If without peril it be possible, Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, And give him from me this most needful scroll.
POLIXENES: Ay, and make't manifest where she has lived, Or how stolen from the dead.
CLARENCE: What will your grace have done with Margaret? Reignier, her father, to the king of France Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem, And hither have they sent it for her ransom.
BRAKENBURY: No, madam, no; I may not leave it so: I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.
TRANIO: But say, what to thine old news?
MIRANDA: Would I might But ever see that man!
KING LEWIS XI: Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
PETRUCHIO: Padua affords nothing but what is kind.
YORK: Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.
Provost: So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advised him for the entertainment of death.
LUCENTIO: I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee at home; therefore leave us.
TYBALT: What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!
QUEEN: Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. So, now I have mine own again, be gone, That I might strive to kill it with a groan.
ROMEO: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
Lord: Madam.
MONTAGUE: To help King Edward in his time of storm, As every loyal subject ought to do.
Shepherd: So she does any thing; though I report it, That should be silent: if young Doricles Do light upon her, she shall bring him that Which he not dreams of.
MARCIUS: I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remember'd.
ABHORSON: Do you call, sir?
KING EDWARD IV: You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen.
MENENIUS: Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; For though abundantly they lack discretion, Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, What says the other troop?
GRUMIO: The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.
KING RICHARD III: Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?
GLOUCESTER: Then never man was true.
NORTHUMBERLAND: What was his reason? He was not so resolved when last we spake together.
QUEEN MARGARET: And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.
HORTENSIO: Content. What is the wager?
MARCIUS: See here these movers that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city; Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste To help Cominius.
GLOUCESTER: I thought, at least, he would have said the king; Or did he make the jest against his will?
ROMEO: Good heart, at what?
DUKE OF YORK: Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow but stately pace kept on his course, Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!' You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage, and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once 'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!' Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning, Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen:' And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
DUCHESS OF YORK: Hadst thou groan'd for him As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect That I have been disloyal to thy bed, And that he is a bastard, not thy son: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him.
KING EDWARD IV: Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.
POMPEY: Sir, she came in great with child; and longing, saving your honour's reverence, for stewed prunes; sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three-pence; your honours have seen such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes,--
VALERIA: How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith. How does your little son?
PROSPERO: Soft, sir! one word more. They are both in either's powers; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. One word more; I charge thee That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on't.
MAMILLIUS: Yes, if you will, my lord.
FRIAR THOMAS: It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased: And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd Than in Lord Angelo.
ISABELLA: Even so. Heaven keep your honour!
CAPULET: Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now To murder, murder our solemnity? O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; And with my child my joys are buried.
Lord: Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up and manage well the jest: Carry him gently to my fairest chamber And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Procure me music ready when he wakes, To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound; And if he chance to speak, be ready straight And with a low submissive reverence Say 'What is it your honour will command?' Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers, Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?' Some one be ready with a costly suit And ask him what apparel he will wear; Another tell him of his hounds and horse, And that his lady mourns at his disease: Persuade him that he hath been lunatic; And when he says he is, say that he dreams, For he is nothing but a mighty lord. This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs: It will be pastime passing excellent, If it be husbanded with modesty.
PETRUCHIO: I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away; And I expressly am forbid to touch it, For it engenders choler, planteth anger; And better 'twere that both of us did fast, Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended, And, for this night, we'll fast for company: Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.
FRIAR LAURENCE: Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste! The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
BAPTISTA: She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.
KING EDWARD IV: Once more we sit in England's royal throne, Re-purchased with the blood of enemies. What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn, Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their pride! Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd For hardy and undoubted champions; Two Cliffords, as the father and the son, And two Northumberlands; two braver men Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound; With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague, That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion And made the forest tremble when they roar'd. Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat And made our footstool of security. Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy. Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night, Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat, That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace; And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.
BUCKINGHAM: The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear; Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit: And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord; For on that ground I'll build a holy descant: And be not easily won to our request: Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.
GREMIO: Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee not: Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and in his waning age Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
FRIAR LAURENCE: This same should be the voice of Friar John. Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
LUCIO: I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke and appeal to him.
SICINIUS: Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid In this so never-needed help, yet do not Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, More than the instant army we can make, Might stop our countryman.
QUEEN MARGARET: My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, And this soft courage makes your followers faint. You promised knighthood to our forward son: Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. Edward, kneel down.
RATCLIFF: My lord?
EXETER: Away! for vengeance comes along with them: Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; Or else come after: I'll away before.
EDWARD: His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; His dukedom and his chair with me is left.
SICINIUS: Have you a catalogue Of all the voices that we have procured Set down by the poll?
BENVOLIO: In love?
JULIET: Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, For in a minute there are many days: O, by this count I shall be much in years Ere I again behold my Romeo!
BENVOLIO: Stop there, stop there.
CORIOLANUS: Why, this was known before.
ANGELO: Hath he a sister?
TYBALT: This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
DUKE VINCENTIO: Slandering a prince deserves it. She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: I have confess'd her and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There's more behind that is more gratulate. Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy: We shill employ thee in a worthier place. Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's: The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine. So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.
Ghosts of young Princes:
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!
POLIXENES: I may not, verily.
Second Keeper: Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.
MERCUTIO: Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
LEONTES: Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. How now there!
First Lady: Blue, my lord.
ROMEO: I thought all for the best.
ANGELO: Condemn the fault and not the actor of it? Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done: Mine were the very cipher of a function, To fine the faults whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor.
YORK: You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me: Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me; Because that I am little, like an ape, He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders.
MENENIUS: Nay, but, fellow, fellow,--
GLOUCESTER: What, think You we are Turks or infidels? Or that we would, against the form of law, Proceed thus rashly to the villain's death, But that the extreme peril of the case, The peace of England and our persons' safety, Enforced us to this execution?
VOLUMNIA: Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
Shepard: So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have married a shepherd's daughter.
YORK: Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
KATHARINA: Where did you study all this goodly speech?
Servant: He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight I'll tell him of you.

LADY CAPULET: He is a kinsman to the Montague; Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

SIR STEPHEN SCROOP: More health and happiness betide my liege Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him!

ANTONIO: He misses not much.

VOLUMNIA: Now, pray, sir, get you gone: You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- As far as doth the Capitol exceed The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all.

DUKE OF YORK: Against them both my true joints bended be. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!

KING RICHARD II: The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

EDWARD: Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain The flower of Europe for his chivalry; And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. Now my soul's palace is become a prison: Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest! For never henceforth shall I joy again, Never, O never shall I see more joy!

First Citizen: Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him.

GLOUCESTER: I'll hear no more: die, prophet in thy speech: For this amongst the rest, was I ordain'd.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Many and hearty thankings to you both. We have made inquiry of you; and we hear Such goodness of your justice, that our soul Cannot but yield you forth to public thanks, Forerunning more requital.

ANGELO:

ISABELLA: Yes, he would give't thee, from this rank offence, So to offend him still. This night's the time That I should do what I abhor to name, Or else thou diest to-morrow.

TRANIO: 'Twas a commodity lay fretting by you: 'Twill bring you gain, or perish on the seas.

First Servingman: A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him out of the house: prithee, call my master to him.

LUCIO: That's the way; for women are light at midnight.

JULIET: Can heaven be so envious?

CAMILLO: I think, this coming summer, the King of Sicilia means to pay Bohemia the visitation which he justly owes him.

MENENIUS: Well, and say that Marcius Return me, as Cominius is return'd, Unheard; what then? But as a discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness? say't be so?

ISABELLA: Doth he so seek his life?

ESCALUS: My lord, I am more amazed at his dishonour Than at the strangeness of it.

Second Murderer: O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show him our commission; talk no more.

RICHMOND: If without peril it be possible, Good Captain Blunt, bear my good-night to him, And give him from me this most needful scroll.

POLIXENES: Ay, and make't manifest where she has lived, Or how stolen from the dead.

CLARENCE: What will your grace have done with Margaret? Reignier, her father, to the king of France Hath pawn'd the Sicils and Jerusalem, And hither have they sent it for her ransom.

BRAKENBURY: No, madam, no; I may not leave it so: I am bound by oath, and therefore pardon me.

TRANIO: But say, what to thine old news?

MIRANDA: Would I might But ever see that man!

KING LEWIS XI: Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.

PETRUCHIO: Padua affords nothing but what is kind.

YORK: Marry, they say my uncle grew so fast That he could gnaw a crust at two hours old 'Twas full two years ere I could get a tooth. Grandam, this would have been a biting jest.

Provost: So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advised him for the entertainment of death.

LUCENTIO: I fly, Biondello: but they may chance to need thee at home; therefore leave us.

TYBALT: What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!

QUEEN: Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. So, now I have mine own again, be gone, That I might strive to kill it with a groan.

ROMEO: Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.

Lord: Madam.

MONTAGUE: To help King Edward in his time of storm, As every loyal subject ought to do.

Shepherd: So she does any thing; though I report it, That should be silent: if young Doricles Do light upon her, she shall bring him that Which he not dreams of.

MARCIUS: I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remember'd.

ABHORSON: Do you call, sir?

KING EDWARD IV: You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen.

MENENIUS: Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; For though abundantly they lack discretion, Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, What says the other troop?

GRUMIO: The note lies in's throat, if he say I said so.

KING RICHARD III: Why, what wouldst thou do there before I go?

GLOUCESTER: Then never man was true.

NORTHUMBERLAND: What was his reason? He was not so resolved when last we spake together.

QUEEN MARGARET: And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! Thy honour, state and seat is due to me.

HORTENSIO: Content. What is the wager?

MARCIUS: See here these movers that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take Convenient numbers to make good the city; Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste To help Cominius.

GLOUCESTER: I thought, at least, he would have said the king; Or did he make the jest against his will?

ROMEO: Good heart, at what?

DUKE OF YORK: Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow but stately pace kept on his course, Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!' You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage, and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once 'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!' Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning, Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen:' And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

DUCHESS OF YORK: Hadst thou groan'd for him As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect That I have been disloyal to thy bed, And that he is a bastard, not thy son: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him.

KING EDWARD IV: Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.

POMPEY: Sir, she came in great with child; and longing, saving your honour's reverence, for stewed prunes; sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three-pence; your honours have seen such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes,--

VALERIA: How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good faith. How does your little son?

PROSPERO: Soft, sir! one word more. They are both in either's powers; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. One word more; I charge thee That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on't.

MAMILLIUS: Yes, if you will, my lord.

FRIAR THOMAS: It rested in your grace To unloose this tied-up justice when you pleased: And it in you more dreadful would have seem'd Than in Lord Angelo.

ISABELLA: Even so. Heaven keep your honour!

CAPULET: Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now To murder, murder our solemnity? O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; And with my child my joys are buried.

Lord: Even as a flattering dream or worthless fancy. Then take him up and manage well the jest: Carry him gently to my fairest chamber And hang it round with all my wanton pictures: Balm his foul head in warm distilled waters And burn sweet wood to make the lodging sweet: Procure me music ready when he wakes, To make a dulcet and a heavenly sound; And if he chance to speak, be ready straight And with a low submissive reverence Say 'What is it your honour will command?' Let one attend him with a silver basin Full of rose-water and bestrew'd with flowers, Another bear the ewer, the third a diaper, And say 'Will't please your lordship cool your hands?' Some one be ready with a costly suit And ask him what apparel he will wear; Another tell him of his hounds and horse, And that his lady mourns at his disease: Persuade him that he hath been lunatic; And when he says he is, say that he dreams, For he is nothing but a mighty lord. This do and do it kindly, gentle sirs: It will be pastime passing excellent, If it be husbanded with modesty.

PETRUCHIO: I tell thee, Kate, 'twas burnt and dried away; And I expressly am forbid to touch it, For it engenders choler, planteth anger; And better 'twere that both of us did fast, Since, of ourselves, ourselves are choleric, Than feed it with such over-roasted flesh. Be patient; to-morrow 't shall be mended, And, for this night, we'll fast for company: Come, I will bring thee to thy bridal chamber.

FRIAR LAURENCE: Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste! The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.

BAPTISTA: She shall, Lucentio. Come, gentlemen, let's go.

KING EDWARD IV: Once more we sit in England's royal throne, Re-purchased with the blood of enemies. What valiant foemen, like to autumn's corn, Have we mow'd down, in tops of all their pride! Three Dukes of Somerset, threefold renown'd For hardy and undoubted champions; Two Cliffords, as the father and the son, And two Northumberlands; two braver men Ne'er spurr'd their coursers at the trumpet's sound; With them, the two brave bears, Warwick and Montague, That in their chains fetter'd the kingly lion And made the forest tremble when they roar'd. Thus have we swept suspicion from our seat And made our footstool of security. Come hither, Bess, and let me kiss my boy. Young Ned, for thee, thine uncles and myself Have in our armours watch'd the winter's night, Went all afoot in summer's scalding heat, That thou mightst repossess the crown in peace; And of our labours thou shalt reap the gain.

BUCKINGHAM: The mayor is here at hand: intend some fear; Be not you spoke with, but by mighty suit: And look you get a prayer-book in your hand, And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord; For on that ground I'll build a holy descant: And be not easily won to our request: Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.

GREMIO: Adieu, good neighbour. Now I fear thee not: Sirrah young gamester, your father were a fool To give thee all, and in his waning age Set foot under thy table: tut, a toy! An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.

FRIAR LAURENCE: This same should be the voice of Friar John. Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

LUCIO: I warrant it is: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders that a milkmaid, if she be in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke and appeal to him.

SICINIUS: Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid In this so never-needed help, yet do not Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, More than the instant army we can make, Might stop our countryman.

QUEEN MARGARET: My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, And this soft courage makes your followers faint. You promised knighthood to our forward son: Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. Edward, kneel down.

RATCLIFF: My lord?

EXETER: Away! for vengeance comes along with them: Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; Or else come after: I'll away before.

EDWARD: His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; His dukedom and his chair with me is left.

SICINIUS: Have you a catalogue Of all the voices that we have procured Set down by the poll?

BENVOLIO: In love?

JULIET: Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, For in a minute there are many days: O, by this count I shall be much in years Ere I again behold my Romeo!

BENVOLIO: Stop there, stop there.

CORIOLANUS: Why, this was known before.

ANGELO: Hath he a sister?

TYBALT: This, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.

DUKE VINCENTIO: Slandering a prince deserves it. She, Claudio, that you wrong'd, look you restore. Joy to you, Mariana! Love her, Angelo: I have confess'd her and I know her virtue. Thanks, good friend Escalus, for thy much goodness: There's more behind that is more gratulate. Thanks, provost, for thy care and secrecy: We shill employ thee in a worthier place. Forgive him, Angelo, that brought you home The head of Ragozine for Claudio's: The offence pardons itself. Dear Isabel, I have a motion much imports your good; Whereto if you'll a willing ear incline, What's mine is yours and what is yours is mine. So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know.

Ghosts of young Princes:

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!

POLIXENES: I may not, verily.

Second Keeper: Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king.

MERCUTIO: Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.

LEONTES: Apollo's angry; and the heavens themselves Do strike at my injustice. How now there!

First Lady: Blue, my lord.

ROMEO: I thought all for the best.

ANGELO: Condemn the fault and not the actor of it? Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done: Mine were the very cipher of a function, To fine the faults whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor.

YORK: You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me: Uncle, my brother mocks both you and me; Because that I am little, like an ape, He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders.

MENENIUS: Nay, but, fellow, fellow,--

GLOUCESTER: What, think You we are Turks or infidels? Or that we would, against the form of law, Proceed thus rashly to the villain's death, But that the extreme peril of the case, The peace of England and our persons' safety, Enforced us to this execution?

VOLUMNIA: Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but Aufidius got off.

Shepard: So 'tis said, sir; about his son, that should have married a shepherd's daughter.

YORK: Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?

KATHARINA: Where did you study all this goodly speech?

Servant: He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight I'll tell him of you.