| Each Marking Instance | Word Count |
|---|---|
| That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time? (460_1_c011, checkmark) | 18 |
| In the dark backward and abysm of time? (460_1_c011, underline) | 8 |
| Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou (460_1_c022, score) | 19 |
| This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk; They'll tell the clock to any business that We say befits the hour. Seb. Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan, (460_1_c036, score3) | 50 |
| Cal. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices, (460_1_c051, score) | 33 |
| [Exeunt SEB. and ANT. Gon. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt, (460_1_c056, arcedscore) | 14 |
| Like poison given to work a great time after, (460_1_c056, underline) | 9 |
| Now 'gins to bite the spirits: (460_1_c057, underline) | 6 |
| Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; And as, with age, his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers: I will plague them all, (460_1_c063, scoresinout) | 41 |
| In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further: Go, release them, Ariel: (460_1_c067, score) | 24 |
| In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend (460_1_c067, scoresinout) | 16 |
| In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, (460_1_c067, score) | 8 |
| they being penitent, (460_1_c067, underline) | 3 |
| Mira. O! wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't! (460_1_c072, score) | 23 |
| Pro. 'Tis new to thee. (460_1_c072, checkmark) | 5 |
| 'Tis new to thee. (460_1_c072, border) | 4 |
| How young Leander crossed the Hellespont. (460_1_c083, checkmark) | 6 |
| like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a robin- red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence (460_1_c095, checkmark) | 20 |
| to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence (460_1_c095, underline) | 9 |
| not welcome. I reckon this always— that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the (460_1_c109, checkmark) | 30 |
| I to myself am dearer than a friend; (460_1_c111, line) | 8 |
| Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with th' enameled stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport to the wild ocean. Then let me go, and hinder not my course: I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, And make a pastime of each weary step, Till the last step have brought me to my love; And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil, A blessed soul doth in Elysium. (460_1_c113, score) | 126 |
| And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil, A blessed soul doth in Elysium. (460_1_c113, checkmark) | 14 |
| To make a virtue of necessity, (460_1_c130, crosschecks3) | 6 |
| Pro. In love, Who respects friend? (460_1_c147, checkmark) | 6 |
| 'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst! (460_1_c148, checkmark) | 10 |
| Who by repentance is not satisfied, Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleased; (460_1_c148, checkmark) | 16 |
| Who by repentance is not satisfied, (460_1_c148, underline) | 6 |
| mind, and the boy never need to understand any thing; for 'tis not good that children should know any wickedness; old folks, you know, have discretion, as they (460_1_c185, checkmark) | 28 |
| peer out! that any madness, I ever yet beheld, (460_1_c218, checkmark) | 9 |
| Be not as extreme in submission As in offence; (460_1_c225, scoresinout) | 9 |
| And though that nature with a beauteous wall Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee I will believe, thou hast a mind that suits With this thy fair and outward character. I pray thee and I'll pay thee bounteously, Conceal me what I am; and be my aid For such disguise as, haply, shall become The form of my intent. I'll serve this duke; Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him; It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing, (460_1_c252, score) | 84 |
| Clo. The more fool you, madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven. —Take away the fool, gentlemen. (460_1_c260, diagonalscore) | 20 |
| Oli. O, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio, and taste with a distempered appetite. To be generous, guiltless and of free disposition, is to take those things for bird-bolts, that you deem cannon-bullets: There is no slander in an allowed fool, though he do nothing but rail; nor no railing in a known discreet man, though he do nothing but reprove. (460_1_c261, score2) | 61 |
| Unless the master were the man. —How now? Even so quickly may one catch the plague? (460_1_c267, checkmark) | 16 |
| Fate, show thy force: ourselves we do not owe; What is decreed, must be; and be this so! [Exit. (460_1_c267, score) | 19 |
| How easy is it for the proper-false In women's waxen hearts to set their forms! Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we; For such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me: (460_1_c270, score) | 59 |
| after midnight, is to be up betimes; and diluculo surgere (460_1_c270, score) | 10 |
| Clo. O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no farther, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers' meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. (460_1_c272, arcedscore) | 39 |
| Clo. What is love? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet-and-twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure. (460_1_c272, score) | 35 |
| than a steward? Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale? (460_1_c274, hashmark) | 18 |
| since the youth of the count's was to-day with my (460_1_c275, checkmark) | 10 |
| Sir To. What, for being a Puritan? thy exquisite (460_1_c275, checkmark) | 9 |
| too late to go to bed now: (460_1_c276, underline) | 7 |
| An elder than herself; so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart. For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn (460_1_c277, arcedscore) | 38 |
| The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age. (460_1_c278, score2) | 38 |
| Sir To. Peace, I say. Mal. To be Count Malvolio;— Sir To. Ah, rogue! Sir And. Pistol him, pistol him. Sir To. Peace, peace! Mal. There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe. Sir And. Fie on him, Jezebel! Fab. O, peace! now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him. Mal. Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,— Sir To. O, for a stone bow, to hit him in the eye! Mal. Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown; having come from a day bed, where I left Olivia sleeping. Sir To. Fire and brimstone! Fab. O, peace, peace! Mal. And then to have the humor of state: and after a demure travel of regard,— telling them I know my place, as I would they should do theirs— to ask for my kinsman Toby:— Sir To. Bolts and shackles! Fab. O, peace, peace, peace! now, now. Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with my some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me:— Sir To. Shall this fellow live? Fab. Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace. Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control:— Mr. R.P. Knight conjectures that this is a corruption of Stratici, a title anciently given to the Governors of Messina, and Illyria is not far from Messina. If so, it will mean the Governor's lady. The word Strachy is printed with a capital and in Italics in the first folio. Puffs him up. Thus in the Two Gentlemen of Verona, the clown says— "Who that is, a team of horses shall not pluck from me." (460_1_c282, score) | 308 |
| Mal. Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him: I frown the while; and, perchance, wind up my watch, or play with my some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me:— (460_1_c282, score) | 36 |
| Mal. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control:— (460_1_c282, score2) | 18 |
| And to do that well, craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time; And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practice, As full of labor as a wise man's art: For folly, that he wisely shows, is fit; But wise men, folly-fallen, quite taint their wit. A wild hawk, or hawk not well trained. /w>—Dr. Johnson reads "Nor like (460_1_c288, score2) | 81 |
| Oli. Why, then, methinks, 'tis time to smile again; O world, how apt the poor are to be proud! If one should be a prey, how much the better To fall before the lion, than the wolf? (460_1_c290, score) | 37 |
| Oli. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip! A murderous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon. Cesario, by the roses of the spring, By maidhood, honor, truth, and every thing, I love thee so, that, maugre all thy pride, Nor wit, nor reason, can my passion hide. Do not extort thy reasons from this clause, For, that I woo, thou therefore hast no cause: But, rather, reason thus with reason fetter: Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better. (460_1_c291, score) | 99 |
| and full of invention: taunt him with the license of ink: if thou thou'st him some thrice, it shall not be (460_1_c293, diagonalscore) | 21 |
| be opposite with a kinsman, (460_1_c298, underline) | 5 |
| Sir And. Plague on't: an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I'll give him my horse, gray Capilet. (460_1_c304, score) | 40 |
| Ant. Will you deny me now? Is't possible, that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man, As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you. Vio. I know of none; (460_1_c306, score) | 48 |
| I hate ingratitude more in a man, Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice, whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood. (460_1_c306, score) | 24 |
| In nature there's no blemish, but the mind; None can be called deformed, but the unkind: Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil (460_1_c306, score) | 22 |
| and I would I were the first that ever dissembled in such a gown. (460_1_c310, underline) | 14 |
| Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. (460_1_c312, checkmark) | 13 |
| Mal. They have here propertied me; keep me in darkness, send ministers to me, asses, and do all they (460_1_c313, checkmark) | 19 |
| can to face me out of my wits. (460_1_c313, underline) | 8 |
| such a barren rascal? An you smile not, he's gagged: And thus the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges. (460_1_c327, checkmark) | 20 |
| Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do; Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched, But to fine issues: nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advertise: (460_1_c334, score) | 84 |
| Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down. (460_1_c338, checkmark) | 12 |
| Duke. My holy sir, none better knows than you How I have ever loved the life removed; And held in idle price to haunt assemblies, Where youth, and cost, and witless bravery keeps. I have delivered to lord Angelo (A man of stricture and firm abstinence) (460_1_c342, score) | 46 |
| the life removed; (460_1_c342, underline) | 3 |
| And he, that suffers. O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. Lucio. That's well said. (460_1_c358, score) | 27 |
| Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle: —But man, proud man! Dressed in a little brief authority,— Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence,— like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal. Lucio. O, to him, to him, wench: he will relent; He's coming; I perceive't. (460_1_c358, score) | 77 |
| Great men may jest with saints: 'tis wit in them! But, in the less, foul profanation. (460_1_c359, score) | 16 |
| Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? Isab. Because authority, though it err like others, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, That skins the vice o' the top: go to your bosom; (460_1_c359, score) | 36 |
| The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she; nor doth she tempt: but it is I, That, lying by the violet, in the sun, Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be, That modesty may more betray our sense (460_1_c360, score) | 50 |
| Duke. Hail to you, provost! so I think you are. Prov. I am the provost: what's your will, good friar? Duke. Bound by my charity, and my blest order, I come to visit the afflicted spirits Here in the prison: do me the common right To let me see them; and to make me know The nature of their crimes, that I may minister (460_1_c361, score) | 64 |
| Grown feared and tedious; yea my gravity, Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride, Could I, with boot, change for an idle plume, Which the air beats for vain. O place! O form! (460_1_c363, enclosure) | 35 |
| How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still art blood! (460_1_c363, enclosure) | 27 |
| Were equal poise of sin and charity. Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, Heaven, let me bear it! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your answer. Ang. Nay, but hear me: Your sense pursues not mine: either you are ignorant, Or seem so, craftily; and that's not good. Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, (460_1_c365, score) | 83 |
| Thank faults may shake our frames,) let me be bold;— I do arrest your words: Be that you are, That is, a woman; if you be more, you're none: If you be one, (as you are well expressed (460_1_c367, score) | 38 |
| Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel? My unsoiled name, the austereness of my life, My vouch against you, and my place i' the state, Will so your accusation overweigh, That you shall stifle in your own report, And smell of calumny. I have begun; And now I give my sensual race the rein: Fit thy consent to my sharp appetite; (460_1_c367, score) | 60 |
| Or, by the affection that now guides me most, I'll prove a tyrant to him: as for you, Say what you can, my false o'erweighs your true. (460_1_c368, checkmark) | 27 |
| my false o'erweighs your true. (460_1_c368, underline) | 5 |
| Isab. To whom shall I complain? Did I tell this, Who would believe me? O perilous mouths, That bear in them one and the self-same tongue, Either of condemnation or approof! (460_1_c368, score) | 31 |
| Are nursed by baseness. Thou art by no means valiant; For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself; For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get; And what thou hast, forget'st. Thou art not certain; For thy complexion shifts to strange affects, After the moon. If thou art rich, thou art poor; (460_1_c369, score) | 100 |
| Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st (460_1_c369, wavyscore) | 18 |
| Thy death, which is no more. (460_1_c369, underline) | 6 |
| For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none; For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, The mere effusion of thy proper loins, Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth" nor age; But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld; and when thou art old, and rich, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even. Claud. I humbly thank you. To sue to live, I find, I seek to die: And seeking death, find life: let it come on. (460_1_c370, score) | 159 |
| The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. (460_1_c371, wavyscore) | 29 |
| The sense of death is most in apprehension; (460_1_c371, underline) | 8 |
| Whose settled visage and deliberate word Nips youth i' the head, and follies doth enmew, (460_1_c372, checkmark) | 15 |
| Whose settled visage and deliberate word (460_1_c372, underline) | 6 |
| Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love. (460_1_c382, score2) | 20 |
| Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure 'scape: back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes: what king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue? (460_1_c383, enclosure) | 29 |
| is only in request; and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertaking. There is scarce truth enough (460_1_c384, score2) | 32 |
| O, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side! (460_1_c385, score) | 13 |
| I have sat here all day. (460_1_c386, underline) | 6 |
| Thou must be made immortal. (460_1_c390, underline) | 5 |
| Prov. His friends still wrought reprieves for him; (460_1_c393, checkmark) | 8 |
| His friends (460_1_c393, underline) | 2 |
| How seems he to be touched? Prov. A man that apprehends death no more dreadfully but as a drunken sleep careless, reckless, and fearless of what's past, present, or to come; insensible (460_1_c393, score) | 32 |
| cover the favor. Duke. O, death's a great disguiser: and you may (460_1_c394, checkmark) | 12 |
| Abhor. Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. Clo. Master Barnardine! You must rise and be hanged, master Barnardine! Abhor. What, ho, Barnardine! Barnar. [Within.] A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you? Clo. Your friends, sir; the hangman: you must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death. Barnar. [Within.] Away, you rogue, away; I am sleepy. Abhor. Tell him, he must awake, and that quickly too. Clo. Pray, master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards. Abhor. Go in to him, and fetch him out. Clo. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle. (460_1_c396, brace) | 107 |
| Clo. O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the next day. (460_1_c397, wavyscore) | 26 |
| Duke. This nor hurts him, nor profits you a jot: (460_1_c399, checkmark) | 10 |
| For my authority bears a credent bulk, That no particular scandal once can touch, But it confounds the breather. He should have lived, Save that his riotous youth, with dangerous sense, (460_1_c402, score) | 31 |
| Duke. Away with her: —poor soul. She speaks this in the infirmity of sense. Isab. O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believest There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touched with madness: make not impossible That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impossible (460_1_c405, score) | 55 |
| That I am touched with madness: (460_1_c405, underline) | 6 |
| But one, the wicked'st caitiff on the ground, May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute, As Angelo; even so may Angelo, (460_1_c405, score) | 24 |
| To speak before your time. —Proceed. Isab. I went To this pernicious caitiff deputy. (460_1_c407, score) | 14 |
| That's somewhat madly spoken. (460_1_c407, underline) | 4 |
| Isab. O, that it were as like as it is true! (460_1_c407, crosschecks3) | 11 |
| Where I have seen corruption boil and bubble, Till it o'errun the stew; laws, for all faults; But faults so countenanced, that the strong statutes Stand like the forfeits in a barber's shop, As much in mock as mark. (460_1_c414, score) | 39 |
| Which I did think with slower foot came on, That brained my purpose: but peace be with him! That life is better life, past fearing death, Than that which lives to fear: make it your comfort, So happy is your brother. (460_1_c416, score) | 41 |
| Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me; Hold up your hands; say nothing; I'll speak all. They say, best men are moulded out of faults; And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad: so may my husband. (460_1_c418, score) | 44 |
| Let him not die: My brother had but justice, In that he did the thing for which he died: For Angelo, His act did not o'ertake his bad intent; And must be buried but as an intent That perished by the way: thoughts are no subjects; Intents but merely thoughts. (460_1_c418, score) | 50 |
| Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better it is to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping! (460_1_c426, checkmark) | 31 |
| hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? For, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing. Leon. Faith, niece, you tax seignior Benedick too (460_1_c426, score) | 32 |
| Bene. What, my dear lady Disdain! —Are you yet living? (460_1_c428, checkmark) | 10 |
| my dear lady Disdain! (460_1_c428, underline) | 4 |
| as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband; have you? (460_1_c430, checkmark) | 22 |
| world one man, but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore (460_1_c430, score) | 19 |
| again? Go to, i'faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away (460_1_c430, score2) | 22 |
| Sundays. Look, don Pedro is returned to seek you. Re-enter DON PEDRO. (460_1_c430, score) | 12 |
| the force of his will. Bene. That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks; but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me: because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, (for the which I may (460_1_c431, score) | 79 |
| D. John. I wonder, that thou, being (as thou say'st thou art) born under Saturn, goest about to apply a moral medicine to a mortifying mischief. I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause, and smile at no man's jests; eat when I have stomach, and wait for no man's leisure; sleep when I am drowsy, (460_1_c435, score) | 62 |
| and say, Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids: so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. (460_1_c438, score) | 49 |
| wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace; the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave. (460_1_c439, score) | 62 |
| Claud. Thus answer I in name of Benedick, But hear these ill news with the ears of Claudio.— 'Tis certain so; —the prince wooes for himself. Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch, Against whose charms faith melteth into blood. This is an accident of hourly proof, Which I mistrusted not: farewell, therefore, Hero! (460_1_c442, score) | 86 |
| D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. Bene. O God, sir, here's a dish I love not; I cannot endure my lady Tongue. [Exit. (460_1_c445, checkmark) | 26 |
| To slander music any more than once. D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, To put a strange face on his own perfection:— (460_1_c451, diagonalscore) | 25 |
| Hero. O God of love! I know, he doth deserve As much as may be yielded to a man; But nature never framed a woman's heart Of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, Misprising what they look on; and her wit Values itself so highly, that to her All matter else seems weak. She cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, (460_1_c459, wavyscore) | 72 |
| To stain my cousin with; one doth not know, How much an ill word may empoison liking. (460_1_c460, checkmark) | 17 |
| And, Benedick, love on; I will requite thee; Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand; (460_1_c461, checkmark) | 16 |
| any villany should be so rich; for when rich villains have need of poor ones, poor ones may make what price they will. (460_1_c468, score) | 23 |
| Bora. That shows thou art unconfirmed. Thou (460_1_c468, checkmark) | 7 |
| There, Leonato, take her back again. Give not this rotten orange to your friend: She's but the sign and semblance of her honor. Behold, how like a maid she blushes here. O, what authority and show of truth Can cunning sin cover itself withal! Comes not that blood, as modest evidence, To witness simple virtue? Would you not swear, All you that see her, that she were a maid, By these exterior shows?— But she is none. She knows the heat of a luxurious bed; Her blush is guiltiness, not modesty. (460_1_c476, score) | 91 |
| Shall be lamented, pitied, and excused, Of every hearer; for it so falls out, That what we have, we prize not to the worth, Whiles we enjoy it; but being lacked and lost, Why, then we rack the value; then we find The virtue, that possession would not show us (460_1_c481, score2) | 50 |
| Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. Bring me a father, that so loved his child, Whose joy of her is overwhelmed like mine, And bid him speak of patience; Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, And let it answer every strain for strain; As thus for thus, and such a grief for such, In every lineament, branch, shape, and form. If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard; Cry— sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should groan; Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me, And I of him will gather patience. But there is no such man; for, brother, men Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it, Their counsel turns to passion, which before Would give preceptial medicine. to rage, Fetter strong madness in a silken thread, Charm ache with air, and agony with words. No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow; But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency, To be so moral, when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel; My griefs cry louder than advertisement? Ant. Therein do men from children nothing differ. (460_1_c488, score) | 221 |
| Cry— sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should groan; Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk (460_1_c488, checkmark) | 16 |
| Patch grief with proverbs; (460_1_c488, underline) | 4 |
| candle-wasters; (460_1_c488, underline) | 1 |
| Leon. I pray thee, peace. I will be flesh and blood; For there was never yet philosopher, That could endure the tooth-ache patiently; However they have writ the style of gods, And made a push at chance and sufferance. (460_1_c488, score3) | 39 |
| in the time of good neighbors. If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than the bell rings, and the widow weeps. (460_1_c500, score3) | 36 |
| that the world can say against it; and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. —For thy part, Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee; but in that thou art like to be my kinsman, live unbruised, (460_1_c506, diagonalscore) | 54 |
| flout at me for what I have said against it; for man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion. —For thy (460_1_c506, checkmark) | 23 |
| a giddy thing, (460_1_c506, underline) | 3 |
| Now (460_2_2.005, underline) | 1 |
| The will of man is by his reason swayed; (460_2_2.028, crosschecks2) | 9 |
| Re-enter PUCK. Puck. Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand; And the youth mistook by me, Pleading for a lover's fee. Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Obe. Stand aside; the noise they make, Will cause Demetrius to awake. Puck. Then will two at once woo one; That must needs be sport alone; And those things do best please me, That befall preposterously. (460_2_2.039, score) | 72 |
| Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! (460_2_2.039, checkmark) | 12 |
| And those things do best please me, That befall preposterously. (460_2_2.039, enclosure) | 10 |
| Lys. Ay, by my life; And never did desire to see thee more. Therefore, be out of hope, of question, doubt, Be certain nothing truer. 'Tis no jest, That I do hate thee, and love Helena. Her. O me, you juggler! you canker-blossom! You thief of love! What, have you come by night, And stolen my love's heart from him ? Hel. Fine, i'faith! Have you no modesty, no maiden shame, No touch of bashfulness? What, will you tear Impatient answers from my gentle tongue? Fie, fie! you counterfeit, you puppet, you! Her. Puppet! Why so? Ay, that way goes the game. Now I perceive that she hath made compare Between our statures; she hath urged her height, And with her personage, her tall personage, Her height, forsooth, she hath prevailed with him.— And are you grown so high in his esteem, Because I am so dwarfish, and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak; A worm that preys on the leaves or buds of flowers. (460_2_2.044, score) | 169 |
| Because I am so dwarfish, and so low? How low am I, thou painted maypole? Speak; (460_2_2.044, checkmark) | 16 |
| How low am I? I am not yet so low, But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes. Hel. I pray you, though you mock me, gentlemen, Let her not hurt me. I was never curst; I have no gift at all in shrewishness; I am a right maid for my cowardice; Let her not strike me. You, perhaps, may think, Because she's something lower than myself, That I can match her. Her: Lower! Hark, again. Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you; Save that, in love unto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you; for love, I followed him. But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too: And now, so you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I bear my folly back, And follow you no farther. Let me go: You see how simple and how fond I am. Her. Why, get you gone. Who is't that hinders you Hel. A foolish heart that I leave here behind. Her. What! with Lysander? Hel. With Demetrius. part. Hal. O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a vixen, when she went to school; And, though she be but little, she is fierce. Her. Little again? Nothing but low and little ?— (460_2_2.045, score) | 241 |
| I have no gift at all in shrewishness; (460_2_2.045, underline) | 8 |
| Let her not strike me. You, perhaps, may think, Because she's something lower than myself, That I can match her. Her: Lower! Hark, again. Hel. Good Hermia, do not be so bitter with me. I evermore did love you, Hermia, Did ever keep your counsels, never wronged you; Save that, in love unto Demetrius, I told him of your stealth unto this wood. He followed you; for love, I followed him. But he hath chid me hence, and threatened me To strike me, spurn me, nay, to kill me too: And now, so you will let me quiet go, To Athens will I bear my folly back, And follow you no farther. Let me go: You see how simple and how fond I am. Her. Why, get you gone. Who is't that hinders you Hel. A foolish heart that I leave here behind. Her. What! with Lysander? Hel. With Demetrius. part. Hal. O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a vixen, when she went to school; And, though she be but little, she is fierce. Her. Little again? Nothing but low and little ?— (460_2_2.045, arcedscore) | 188 |
| You, perhaps, may think, Because she's something lower than myself, That I can match her. (460_2_2.045, underline) | 15 |
| part. Hal. O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd. She was a vixen, when she went to school; And, though she be but little, she is fierce. Her. Little again? Nothing but low and little ?— (460_2_2.045, score) | 38 |
| She was a vixen, when she went to school; And, though she be but little, she is fierce. (460_2_2.045, checkmark) | 18 |
| Obe. This is thy negligence; still thou mistak'st, Or else committ'st thy knaveries wilfully. Puck. Believe me, king of shadows, I mistook. Did not you tell me I should know the man By the Athenian garments he had on? And so far blameless proves my enterprise, That I have 'nointed an Athenian's eyes; And so far am I glad it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport. Obe. Thou see'st, these lovers seek a place to fight. Hie, therefore, Robin, overcast the night; The starry welkin cover thou anon With drooping fog, as black as Acheron; And lead these testy rivals so astray, As one come not within another's way. Anciently knot-grass was believed to prevent the growth of children. Pretend. Aby it, for abide it, i.e. pay dearly for it, rue it. Chance, fall out; from sort (French). (460_2_2.046, score2) | 143 |
| And so far am I glad it so did sort, As this their jangling I esteem a sport. (460_2_2.046, checkmark) | 18 |
| Tita. My Oberon! what visions have I seen! Methought I was enamored of an ass. (460_2_2.053, arcedscoresinout) | 15 |
| O, how mine eyes do loath his visage now! (460_2_2.053, arcedscoresinout) | 9 |
| Of hounds and echo in conjunction. Hip. I was with Hercules, and Cadmus, once, When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear (460_2_2.054, score) | 32 |
| Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, (460_2_2.054, score2) | 7 |
| The skies, the fountains, every region near Seemed all one mutual cry. I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder. (460_2_2.054, score) | 22 |
| Slow in pursuit, but matched in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tunable (460_2_2.054, checkmark) | 16 |
| The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact One sees more devils than vast hell can hold; (460_2_2.059, score2) | 21 |
| The. I will hear that play; For never any thing can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it. Go, bring them in ;—and take your places, ladies. (460_2_2.062, score) | 28 |
| Our sport shall be, to take what they mistake; And what poor duty cannot do, Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. Where I have come, great clerks have purposed To greet me with premeditated welcomes; Where I have seen them shiver and look pale, Make periods in the midst of sentences, Throttle their practised accent in their fears, And, in conclusion, dumbly have broke off, Not paying me a welcome; trust me, sweet, Out of this silence, yet, I picked a welcome; And in the modesty of fearful duty I read as much, as from the rattling tongue Of saucy and audacious eloquence. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, In least speak most, to my capacity. (460_2_2.062, score) | 117 |
| The. I wonder if the lion be to speak. Dem. No wonder, my lord. One lion may, when many asses do. Wall. "In this same interlude, it doth befall, "That I, one Snout by name, present a wall: (460_2_2.064, checkmark) | 38 |
| Lys. Less than an ace, man; for he is dead; he is nothing. (460_2_2.069, checkmark) | 13 |
| Enter PUCK. Puck. Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task foredone. Now the wasted brands do glow, Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. Now it is the time of night, That the graves all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide; And we fairies, that do run, By the triple Hecat's team, From the presence of the sun, Following darkness like a dream, Now are frolic. Not a mouse Shall disturb this hallowed house; I am sent, with broom, before, To sweep the dust behind the door. (460_2_2.071, checkmark) | 118 |
| And the huge army of the world's desires,— (460_2_2.077, crosschecks2) | 8 |
| Biron. By yea and nay, sir, then I swore in jest. What is the end of study? Let me know. King. Why, that to know, which else we should not know. Biron. Things hid and barred, you mean, from common sense? King. Ay, that is study's godlike recompense. Biron. Come on then; I will swear to study so, To know the thing I am forbid to know. As thus— To study where I well may dine, When I to feast expressly am forbid; (460_2_2.078, score) | 83 |
| And train our intellects to vain delight. Biron. Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain. As, painfully to pore upon a book, (460_2_2.079, arcedscore) | 31 |
| Study is like the heaven's glorious sun, That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks. Small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights, That give a name to every fixed star, Have no more profit of their shining nights, Than those that walk, and wot not what they are. Too much to know, is, to know nought but fame; And every godfather can give a name. (460_2_2.079, score) | 76 |
| Too much to know, is, to know nought but fame; (460_2_2.079, underline) | 10 |
| King. How well he's read, to reason against reading! (460_2_2.079, checkmark) | 9 |
| 'Tis won, as towns with fire; so won, so lost. King. We must, of force, dispense with this decree; She must lie here on mere necessity. Biron. Necessity will make us all forsworn Three thousand times within this three years' (460_2_2.081, diagonalscore) | 40 |
| but by special grace. (460_2_2.081, underline) | 4 |
| From tawny Spain, lost in the world's debate. (460_2_2.082, checkmark2) | 8 |
| world's debate. (460_2_2.082, underline) | 2 |
| Arm. I am ill at reckoning; it fitteth the spirit of a tapster. (460_2_2.087, checkmark) | 13 |
| Prin. Such short-lived wits do wither as they grow. (460_2_2.093, score) | 9 |
| And wear his colors like a tumbler's hoop! What? I! I love! I sue! I seek a wife! A woman, that is like a German clock, Still a-repairing; ever out of frame; And never going aright, being a watch, But being watched that it may still go right! (460_2_2.106, score) | 48 |
| Boyet. Do not curst wives hold that self-sovereignty Only for praise' sake, when they strive to be Lords o'er their lords? (460_2_2.108, score) | 21 |
| At the first opening of the gorgeous east, (460_2_2.126, checkmark) | 8 |
| gorgeous east, (460_2_2.126, underline) | 2 |
| Biron. Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light. (460_2_2.126, crosschecks2) | 8 |
| Hol. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity (460_2_2.131, checkmark) | 9 |
| [They converse apart. Boyet. The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen As is the razor's edge invisible, Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen; Above the sense of sense. So sensible Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings, Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things. (460_2_2.144, score) | 48 |
| Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when Jove doth please. He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve: Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve. He can carve too, and lisp. Why this is he That kissed away his hand in courtesy; This is the ape of form, monsieur the nice, That, when he plays at tables, chides the dice In honorable terms; nay, he can sing A mean most meanly; and, in ushering, Mend him who can. The ladies call him sweet; The stairs, as he treads on them, kiss his feet. This is the flower that smiles on every one, To show his teeth as white as whalës bone; (460_2_2.146, score) | 154 |
| Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when Jove doth please. He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs; And we that sell by gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to grace it with such show. This gallant pins the wenches on his sleeve: Had he been Adam, he had tempted Eve. (460_2_2.146, score) | 68 |
| Biron. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when Jove doth please. He is wit's pedler, and retails his wares At wakes and wassels, meetings, markets, fairs; (460_2_2.146, score) | 32 |
| Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timbered. Long. His leg is too big for Hector. (460_2_2.157, checkmark) | 16 |
| A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. Then, if sickly ears, (460_2_2.163, scoresinout) | 25 |
| This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring; the one maintained by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin. (460_2_2.164, score) | 22 |
| What many men desire.— That many may be meant By the fool multitude, that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty. I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits, And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house! (460_2_2.204, score) | 82 |
| Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty. (460_2_2.204, score) | 26 |
| barbarous multitudes. (460_2_2.204, underline) | 2 |
| Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledged; and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam. (460_2_2.208, score) | 25 |
| SONG. Tell me, where is fancy bred, Or in the heart, or in the head ? How begot, how nourished ? Reply, reply. It is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed; and fancy. dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's knell; I'll begin it,— Ding, dong, bell. (460_2_2.213, brokenscore) | 53 |
| If their purgation did consist in words, They are as innocent as grace itself.— Let it suffice thee, that I trust thee not. (460_2_2.272, score) | 23 |
| Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. Know you not, master, to some kind of men Their graces serve them but as enemies? No more do yours; your virtues, gentle master, Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. O, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it! Orl. Why, what's the matter? (460_2_2.278, score) | 60 |
| O, what a world is this, when what is comely Envenoms him that bears it! (460_2_2.278, score) | 15 |
| Envenoms him that bears it! (460_2_2.278, score2) | 5 |
| many matters as he; but I give Heaven thanks, and make no boast of them. Come, warble, come. (460_2_2.284, score) | 18 |
| Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do, but good? Duke S. Most mischievous, foul sin, in chiding sin; For thou thyself hast been a libertine, (460_2_2.288, score) | 26 |
| Touch. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I like it very well; but in respect that it is private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is a spare life, look you, it fits my humor well; but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? (460_2_2.294, score) | 106 |
| Orl. I will chide no breather in the world, but myself against whom I know most faults. (460_2_2.302, score) | 17 |
| Ros. Yes, one; and in this manner. He was to imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to woo me : At which time would I, being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles; for every passion something, and for no passion truly any thing, as boys and women are for the most part cattle of this color; would now like him, now loathe him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now Weep for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor from his mad (460_2_2.305, score) | 107 |
| is all these: but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects; and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels; which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness. (460_2_2.316, score) | 38 |
| Ros. A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to be sad; I fear you have sold your own lands, to see other men's; then, to have seen much, and to have nothing, is" to have rich eyes and poor hands. (460_2_2.316, score) | 42 |
| bid the duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's (460_2_2.331, score3) | 21 |
| Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, (460_2_2.351, score) | 9 |
| Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy (460_2_2.351, score) | 9 |
| Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend (460_2_2.351, score) | 9 |
| Under thy own life's key. Be checked for silence, (460_2_2.351, score) | 9 |
| But never taxed for speech. What Heaven more will, (460_2_2.351, score) | 9 |
| Par. Let me see. (460_2_2.353, annotated) | 4 |
| There shall your master have a thousand loves, A mother, and a mistress, and a friend, A phoenix, captain, and an enemy, A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; His humble ambition, proud humility, His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world Of pretty, fond, adoptions christendoms, That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he— (460_2_2.354, score) | 68 |
| (Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words He scattered not in ears, but grafted them, To grow there, and to bear,) Let me not live,— (460_2_2.358, score) | 26 |
| On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, When it was out,— let me not live, quoth he, After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses All but new things disdain; whose judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies Expire before their fashions— This he wished : I, after him, do after him wish too, Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home, I quickly were dissolved from my hive, (460_2_2.358, score) | 79 |
| have friends for my wife's sake. Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. (460_2_2.360, checkmark) | 13 |
| Charbon (460_2_2.360, underline) | 1 |
| Poysam (460_2_2.360, underline) | 1 |
| Clo. That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!— Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart.— I am going, forsooth; the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit Clown. Count. Well, now. (460_2_2.362, score) | 56 |
| Though honesty be no puritan, (460_2_2.362, underline) | 5 |
| highly fed and lowly taught. (460_2_2.375, underline) | 5 |
| Laf. They say, miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times. (460_2_2.377, score3) | 60 |
| Good alone Is good;— without a name, vileness is so: (460_2_2.381, underline) | 10 |
| Debauched on every tomb; on every grave, A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb, Where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb Of honored bones indeed. What should be said? If thou canst like this creature as a maid, I can create the rest. Virtue, and she, (460_2_2.382, score3) | 48 |
| staggers and the careless lapse (460_2_2.382, underline) | 5 |
| Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate, Loosing upon thee in the name of justice, Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. (460_2_2.383, diagonalscore) | 25 |
| Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate, (460_2_2.383, underline) | 9 |
| I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto't.— Where is my son, I pray you? (460_2_2.394, score) | 30 |
| Can woman me unto't.— Where is my son, I pray you? (460_2_2.394, checkmark) | 11 |
| Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he has spied us. (460_2_2.402, checkmark3) | 11 |
| " certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's favor, and, for a week, escape a great deal of discoveries (460_2_2.406, checkmark) | 22 |
| 1 Lord. Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is? [Aside. (460_2_2.410, checkmark) | 17 |
| 1 Lord. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave of it. (460_2_2.415, checkmark) | 16 |
| 1 Lord. How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our losses! (460_2_2.416, checkmark) | 12 |
| dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks, lest (460_2_2.419, checkmark) | 10 |
| For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. (460_2_2.421, checkmark) | 21 |
| might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there. (460_2_2.424, score) | 20 |
| Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, Let him fear this; for it will come to pass, That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live Safest in shame! Being fooled, by foolery thrive! There's place, and means, for every man alive. I'll after them. [Exit. (460_2_2.424, score2) | 91 |
| From the great compt. But love, that comes too late, Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, To the great sender turns a sour offence, Crying, that's good that's gone. Our rash faults Make trivial price of serious things we have, Not knowing them, until we know their grave. Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust. Our own love waking cries to see what's done, While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon, (460_2_2.435, score) | 78 |
| you give me any conserves, give me conserves of beef. Ne'er ask me what raiment I'll wear; for I have no more doublets than backs, no more stockings than legs, nor no more shoes than feet; nay, sometimes, more feet than shoes, or such shoes as my toes look through the over-leather. (460_2_2.456, score) | 52 |
| No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en.— (460_2_2.462, checkmark) | 8 |
| Pet. Such wind as scatters young men through the world, (460_2_2.470, checkmark) | 10 |
| When did she cross thee with a bitter word? Kath. Her silence flouts me, and I'll be revenged. (460_2_2.479, checkmark) | 18 |
| That in a twink, she won me to her love. O, you are novices! 'Tis a world to see, How tame, when men and women are alone, A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.— Give me thy hand, Kate! I will unto Venice, To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.— Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests; (460_2_2.488, score) | 58 |
| Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; (460_2_2.519, checkmark) | 8 |
| so rare— I know not what to say.— We will give you sleepy drinks; that your senses, unintelligent of our insufficience, may, though they cannot praise us, as little accuse us. (460_3_3.007, score) | 31 |
| they should desire to live. Arch. If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches till he had one. [Exeunt. (460_3_3.008, score) | 24 |
| Go hence in debt. And therefore, like a cipher, Yet standing in rich place, I multiply, With one we-thank-you, many thousands more (460_3_3.009, diagonalscore) | 22 |
| Pol. We were, fair queen, Two lads that thought there was no more behind, But such a day to-morrow as to-day, And to be boy eternal. (460_3_3.011, diagonalscore) | 26 |
| Pol. O, my most sacred lady, Temptations have since then been born to us; for In those unfledged days was my wife a girl; (460_3_3.011, diagonalscore2) | 24 |
| More than the common blocks.— Not noted, is't, But of the finer natures? By some severals, (460_3_3.017, checkmark) | 16 |
| By some severals, (460_3_3.017, underline) | 3 |
| Pol. I do believe thee: I saw his heart in his face. Give me thy hand; (460_3_3.024, checkmark) | 16 |
| Two days ago.— This jealousy Is for a precious creature; as she's rare, Must it be great; and, as his person's mighty, Must it be violent; and as he does conceive He is dishonored by a man which ever Professed to him, why, his revenges must (460_3_3.024, score) | 46 |
| Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accursed, In being so blest!— There maybe in the cup A spider steeped, and one may drink; depart, And yet partake no venom; for his Is not infected: but if one present The abhorred ingredient to his eye; make known, How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides With. violent hefts.— I have drunk, and seen the spider, (460_3_3.027, score) | 65 |
| That mercy does; for calumny will sear Virtue itself;— these shrugs, these hums, and ha's, When you have said, she's goodly, come between, (460_3_3.028, score) | 23 |
| You scarce can right me throughly, then, to say You did mistake. (460_3_3.029, score) | 12 |
| I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favorable. — Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex Commonly are; the want of which vain dew, Perchance, shall dry your pities: but I have (460_3_3.029, score) | 42 |
| — (460_3_3.029, strikethrough) | 1 |
| You smell this business with a sense as cold As is a dead man's nose; but I do see't and feel't, As you feel doing thus; and see withal (460_3_3.030, score) | 29 |
| The silence often of pure innocence Persuades, when speaking fails. (460_3_3.033, score2) | 10 |
| Paul. Forever Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou Tak'st up the princess, by that forced baseness Which he has put upon't! Leon. He dreads his wife. (460_3_3.037, diagonalscore) | 26 |
| For most it caught me— the celestial habits (Methinks I so should term them) and the reverence Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice! How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly It was i' the offering! Cleo. But of all, the burst (460_3_3.042, score) | 40 |
| False accusation blush, and tyranny Tremble at patience.— You, my lord, best know (460_3_3.044, checkmark) | 13 |
| To prate and talk for life, and honor, 'fore Who please to come and hear. For. life, I prize it As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honor 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes (460_3_3.044, score) | 52 |
| As I weigh grief, which I would spare; for honor 'Tis a derivative from me to mine, And only that I stand for. I appeal To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes (460_3_3.044, score) | 32 |
| Though 'tis a saying, sir, due to me. Leon. You will not own it. Her. More than mistress of, (460_3_3.044, score) | 19 |
| All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas, I have showed too much (460_3_3.050, checkmark) | 20 |
| when I shall come to know them, (460_3_3.050, underline) | 7 |
| lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who, being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With dye, and (460_3_3.059, checkmark) | 25 |
| Pol. Say, there be; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean; so, o'er that art, Which, you say, adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock; And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature,— change it rather: but The art itself is nature. (460_3_3.065, score2) | 76 |
| Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean; so, o'er that art, (460_3_3.065, enclosure) | 17 |
| dibble (460_3_3.065, underline) | 1 |
| Flo. It cannot fail, but by The violation of my faith; and then Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together, And mar the seeds within!— Lift up thy looks;— From my succession wipe me, father! I Am heir to my affection. Cam. Be advised. (460_3_3.078, score) | 46 |
| I needs must think it honesty. Camillo, Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may Be thereat gleaned; for all the sun sees, or The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath To this my fair be beloved. Therefore, I pray you, As you have e'er been my father's honored friend, When he shall miss me, (as, in faith, I mean not To see him any more,) cast your good counsels Upon his passion. Let myself and fortune (460_3_3.078, score) | 87 |
| Where you'll be loath to be: Besides, you know, Prosperity's the very bond of love; Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together (460_3_3.081, diagonalscore) | 22 |
| Do, as the Heavens have done; forget your evil: With them, forgive yourself. Leon. Whilst I remember Her and her virtues, I cannot forget My blemishes in them; and so still think of The wrong I did myself; which was so much, That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and Destroyed the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of. Paul. True, too true, my lord. (460_3_3.090, diagonalscore) | 68 |
| Do, as the Heavens have done; (460_3_3.090, underline) | 6 |
| Her and her virtues, I cannot forget My blemishes in them; and so still think of The wrong I did myself; which was so much, That heirless it hath made my kingdom; and Destroyed the sweet'st companion that e'er man Bred his hopes out of. Paul. True, too true, my lord. (460_3_3.090, diagonalscore) | 51 |
| As every present time doth boast itself Above a better, gone; so must thy grave Give way to what's seen now. Sir, you yourself Have said, and writ so, (but your writing now (460_3_3.093, score2) | 33 |
| statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,— a piece many years in doing, and now newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; who, had he (460_3_3.100, checkmark) | 28 |
| You precious winners all; your exultation Partake to every one. I, an old turtle, Will wing me to some withered bough; and there My mate, that's never to be found again, Lament till I am lost. (460_3_3.107, score) | 36 |
| Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms.— I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world.— How easy dost thou take all England up: (460_3_3.336, score2) | 31 |
| Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, (460_3_3.374, checkmark) | 8 |
| Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits, (460_3_3.377, checkmark) | 9 |
| Gaunt. Methinks I am a prophet new inspired; And thus, expiring, do foretell of him. (460_3_3.382, checkmark) | 15 |
| To make a second fall of cursed man? (460_3_3.420, underline) | 8 |
| No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine, And made no deeper wounds?- O, flattering glass, Like to my followers in prosperity, (460_3_3.430, score) | 29 |
| Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed The shadow of your face. K. Rich. Say that again. (460_3_3.430, score) | 18 |
| York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,— Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, (460_3_3.436, checkmark) | 16 |
| And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,— That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars, Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,— (460_3_3.446, score) | 41 |
| And straight am nothing.— But whate'er I am, Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased With being nothing.— Music do I hear? [Music. Ha, ha! keep time.— How sour sweet music is, (460_3_3.446, score) | 43 |
| For some displeasing service I have done, (460_3_3.514, diagonalscore) | 7 |
| If not, the end of life cancels all bands; (460_3_3.518, score3) | 9 |
| O, FOR a muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention! (460_4_4.117, checkmark) | 14 |
| The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder. Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; (460_4_4.117, checkmark) | 13 |
| Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass. For the which supply, (460_4_4.118, checkmark) | 13 |
| So that the art and practic part of life Must be the mistress to his theoric; (460_4_4.120, score) | 16 |
| Ely. The strawberry grows underneath the nettle; And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, Neighbored by fruit of baser quality. And so the prince obscured his contemplation Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. (460_4_4.120, score) | 49 |
| Cant. It must be so; for miracles are ceased; And therefore we must needs admit the means, (460_4_4.120, mark) | 17 |
| 'Gainst him, whose wrongs give edge unto the swords That make such waste in brief mortality. (460_4_4.122, checkmark) | 16 |
| Charles the Great, (460_4_4.123, underline) | 3 |
| Now thrive the armorers, (460_4_4.131, underline) | 4 |
| And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, To mark the full-fraught man, and best endued, With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like (460_4_4.142, score) | 34 |
| Another fall of man. (460_4_4.142, underline) | 4 |
| God, God! three or four times: now I, to comfort him, bid him, 'a should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such (460_4_4.145, checkmark2) | 31 |
| 'a should not think of God; (460_4_4.145, underline) | 6 |
| If ever thou be'st mine, Kate, (as I have a saving faith within me, tells me, ߜthou shalt,) I get thee with scambling (460_4_4.219, sidewayscaret) | 23 |
| breeder. Shall not thou and I, between saint Dennis and saint George, compound a boy, half French, half (460_4_4.219, checkmark) | 18 |
| I lay unto the grievous charge of others. Clarence, —whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, (460_5_5.031, diagonalscore) | 16 |
| True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings. (460_5_5.114, score3) | 17 |
| Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they Made Britain, India; every man, that stood, (460_5_5.137, score2) | 14 |
| Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way; (460_5_5.138, score) | 18 |
| It reaches far; and where 'twill not extend, Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel; (460_5_5.140, score2) | 16 |
| Can advise me like you; be to yourself As you would to your friend. (460_5_5.141, checkmark) | 14 |
| As give a crutch to the dead. But our count cardinal (460_5_5.142, score3) | 11 |
| That virtue must go through. We must not stint Our necessary actions, in the fear To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new trimmed; but benefit no further Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is Not ours, or not allowed; what worst, as oft, Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up For our best act. If We shall stand still, In fear our motion will be mocked or carped at (460_5_5.147, score) | 86 |
| [To the Secretary. Let there be letters writ to every shire, Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised, That, through our intercession, this revokement And pardon comes. I shall anon advise you (460_5_5.148, score) | 42 |
| A little happier than my wretched father: Yet thus far we are one in fortunes —Both Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; A most unnatural and faithless service! (460_5_5.163, diagonalscore) | 32 |
| This from a dying man receive as certain; Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels, Be sure, you be not loose; for those you make friends, And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, (460_5_5.163, scoresinout) | 62 |
| 2 Gent. I am confident; You shall, sir. Did you not of late days hear A buzzing, of a separation Between the king and Katharine? (460_5_5.164, score) | 25 |
| Full of sad thoughts and troubles. Nor. What's the cause? Cham. It seems, the marriage with his brother's wife Has crept too near his conscience. Suf. No, his conscience Has crept too near another lady. Nor. 'Tis so; (460_5_5.165, score) | 38 |
| There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; For he would needs be virtuous. That good fellow, (460_5_5.170, diagonalscore) | 17 |
| He was a fool; For he would needs be virtuous. (460_5_5.170, underline) | 10 |
| She's a stranger now again. Anne. So much the more Must pity drop upon her. Verily, I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, (460_5_5.171, score) | 40 |
| Old L. Beshrew me, I would, And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, For all this spice of your hypocrisy. You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts (Saving your mincing) the capacity Of your soft, cheveril conscience would receive, If you might please to stretch it. (460_5_5.171, score) | 71 |
| You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts (Saving your mincing) the capacity (460_5_5.171, score) | 36 |
| Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends Have I not strove to love, although I knew He were mine enemy? What friend of mine, That had to him derived your anger, did I Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to mind (460_5_5.176, score) | 53 |
| To oppose your cunning. You are meek and humble mouthed; You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility; but your heart Is crammed with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favors, (460_5_5.178, score) | 41 |
| I have more charity. But say, I warned ye; Take heed, for Heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye. (460_5_5.186, score) | 27 |
| Take heed, for Heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once The burden of my sorrows fall upon ye. (460_5_5.186, score3) | 18 |
| Make me a curse like this. Cam. Your fears are worse. Q. Kath. Have I lived thus long— (let me speak myself, Since virtue finds no friends) —a wife, a true one? A woman (I dare say, without vain-glory) (460_5_5.187, score) | 39 |
| And widow to prince Arthur. Nor. This same Cranmer's A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain (460_5_5.191, score) | 17 |
| Cranmer's A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain (460_5_5.191, underline) | 9 |
| we shall see him, For it, an archbishop. (460_5_5.191, underline) | 8 |
| A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to (460_5_5.192, crosschecks2) | 7 |
| A spleeny Lutheran; (460_5_5.192, underline) | 3 |
| spleeny (460_5_5.192, underline) | 1 |
| What sudden anger's this? how have I reaped it? He parted frowning from me, as if ruin Leaped from his eyes. So looks the chafed lion Upon the daring huntsman that has galled him; Then makes him nothing. I must read this paper; I fear, the story of his anger. 'Tis so; This paper has undone me:— 'Tis the account Of all that world of wealth I have drawn together For mine own ends; indeed, to gain the popedom, And fee my friends in Rome. O negligence, Fit for a fool to fall by! What cross devil Made me put this main secret in the packet I sent the king? Is there no way to cure this? No new device to beat this from his brains? I know 'twill stir him strongly. Yet I know A way, if it take right, in spite of fortune, Will bring me off again. What's this? To the Pope! The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his holiness. Nay, then, farewell! I have touched the highest point of all my greatness; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. (460_5_5.196, score) | 212 |
| Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, —envy. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, As if it fed ye! And how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards. That seal (460_5_5.197, score) | 58 |
| coarse metal (460_5_5.197, underline) | 2 |
| Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him So little of his great self. (460_5_5.200, score) | 34 |
| Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition; By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by't? Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty; Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not; Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the King: And, —Pr'ythee, lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have To the last penny: 'tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to Heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies. Crom. Good sir, have patience. (460_5_5.204, score) | 156 |
| Had the full view of, such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes. Hats, cloaks, (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost. Such joy (460_5_5.208, score) | 47 |
| His blessed part to Heaven, and slept in peace. Kath. So may he rest; his faults lie gently on him! Yet thus far, Griffith, give me leave to speak him, And yet with charity; —He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking (460_5_5.210, score) | 44 |
| Both in his words and meaning. He was never, But where he meant to ruin, pitiful. (460_5_5.211, diagonalscore) | 16 |
| Give her an hundred marks. (460_5_5.222, underline) | 5 |
| And, not reformed, may prove pernicious. Gar. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses, Pace them not in their hands to make them gentle; But stop their mouths with stubborn bits, and spur them, Till they obey the manage. If we suffer (Out of our easiness, and childish pity To one man's honor) this contagious sickness, Farewell, all physic; and what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a general taint Of the whole state; as of late days, our neighbors, The upper Germany, can dearly witness, Yet freshly pitied in our memories. (460_5_5.225, score) | 99 |
| Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill, Feigned Fortune to be throned. The base o' the mount Is ranked with all deserts, all kind of natures, (460_5_5.366, score) | 29 |
| To propagate their states. Amongst them all, Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fixed, (460_5_5.366, score) | 15 |
| Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants (460_5_5.366, score) | 17 |
| Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Drink the free air. (460_5_5.366, score) | 12 |
| 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after.— Fare you well. (460_5_5.367, score) | 16 |
| Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. (460_5_5.390, underline) | 6 |
| Why, this Is the world's soul; (460_5_5.397, underline) | 6 |
| You must consider that a prodigal course Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. (460_5_5.400, score) | 16 |
| revenge enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no house to put his head in? Such may rail against great buildings. (460_5_5.402, score) | 23 |
| Put in now, Titus. (460_5_5.403, underline) | 4 |
| [Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out. (460_5_5.411, annotated) | 9 |
| O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! (460_5_5.414, checkmark) | 8 |
| Who'd be so mocked with glory? or to live But in a dream of friendship? To have his pomp, and all what state compounds, (460_5_5.414, checkmark) | 24 |
| Apem. To vex thee. Tim. Always a villain's office, or a fool's. (460_5_5.423, crosschecks2) | 12 |
| Apem. Here is no use for gold. Tim. The best, and truest; (460_5_5.425, score) | 12 |
| Apem. The middle of humanity thou never knewest (460_5_5.425, checkmark) | 8 |
| Tim. Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou ever know beloved? (460_5_5.426, checkmark) | 13 |
| Tim. I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a dog. (460_5_5.426, checkmark) | 12 |
| suspect thee, when, peradventure, thou wert accused by the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would torment thee; and still thou livedst but as a breakfast (460_5_5.426, score) | 28 |
| [Looking on the gold. 'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer, Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, That solder'st close impossibilities, And mak'st them kiss! that speak'st with every tongue, To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! Think, thy slave man rebels; and by thy virtue (460_5_5.428, score) | 72 |
| That you are thieves professed; that you work not In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft (460_5_5.429, score) | 17 |
| The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun; The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief, That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen From general excrement; each thing's a thief; The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power (460_5_5.430, wavyscore) | 69 |
| But thieves do lose it. Steal not less, for this (460_5_5.430, diagonalscore) | 10 |
| o' the time: it opens the eyes of expectation; performance is ever the duller for his act; and, but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is most courtly and fashionable; performance is a kind of will or testament, which argues a great sickness in his judgment that makes it. (460_5_5.434, wavyscore) | 62 |
| Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph; It will be seen to-morrow. My long sickness Of health, and living, now begins to mend, (460_5_5.440, checkmark) | 24 |
| And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness, Deserves your hate; and your affections are A sick man's appetite, who desires most that (460_5_5.457, wavyscore) | 24 |
| Cor. Shall remain!— (460_5_5.507, checkmark) | 3 |
| Triton of the minnows? (460_5_5.507, underline) | 4 |
| Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, His good sword in his hand. (460_5_5.531, score) | 14 |
| He'd make an end of thy posterity. (460_5_5.531, score) | 7 |
| As I can of those mysteries which Heaven Will not have earth to know. (460_5_5.531, score) | 14 |
| 3 Serv. Where dwellest thou? Cor. Under the canopy. 3 Serv. Under the canopy? Cor. Ay. 3 Serv. Where's that? Cor. I' the city of kites and crows. 3 Serv. I' the city of kites and crows? —What an ass it is! —Then thou dwellest with daws too? (460_5_5.536, score) | 48 |
| Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn, (460_5_5.537, score) | 8 |
| Cor. My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done To thee particularly, and to all the Volces, Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may My surname, Coriolanus. The painful service, The extreme dangers, and the drops of blood Shed for my thankless country, are requited But with that surname; a good memory, And witness of the malice and displeasure Which thou shouldst hear me. Only that name remains; The cruelty and envy of the people, Permitted by our dastard nobles, who Have all forsook me, hath devoured the rest; And suffered me by the voice of slaves to be Whooped out of Rome. Now, this extremity Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope— Mistake me not to save my life; for if I had feared death, of all the men i' the world I would have 'voided thee; but in mere spite, (460_5_5.537, score) | 145 |
| Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast A heart of wreak in thee, that will revenge Thine own particular wrongs, and stop those maims Of shame seen through thy country, speed thee straight, And make my misery serve thy turn; so use it, That my revengeful services may prove As benefits to thee; for I will fight Against my cankered country with the spleen Of all the under-fiends. But if so be Thou dar'st not this, and that to prove more fortunes Thou art tired, then, in a word, I also am Longer to live most weary, and present My throat to thee, and to thy ancient malice; Which not to cut, would show thee but a fool; Since I have ever followed thee with hate, Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, And cannot live but to thy shame, unless It be to do thee service. Auf. O Marcius, Marcius, Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say, 'Tis true; I'd not believe them more than thee, All noble Marcius.— O, let me twine Mine arms about that body, where against My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, And scarred the moon with splinters! Here I clip The anvil of my sword; and do contest As hotly and as nobly with thy love, As ever in ambitious strength I did Contend against thy valor. Know thou first, I love the maid I married; never man Sighed truer breath; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart, Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, (460_5_5.538, score) | 293 |
| Caes. What say'st thou to me now? Speak once again. Sooth. Beware the ides of March. (460_6_6.010, score) | 16 |
| Merely upon myself. Vexed I am, Of late, with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to myself, Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors; But let not therefore my good friends be grieved, (460_6_6.011, score) | 35 |
| Conceptions only proper to myself, (460_6_6.011, underline) | 5 |
| Cas. Ay, do you fear it? Then must I think you would not have it so. (460_6_6.012, score) | 16 |
| I cannot tell what you and other men Think of this life; but, for my single self, (460_6_6.012, score) | 17 |
| he offered it the third time; he put it the third time by; .and still, as he refused it, the rabblement hooted, and clapped their chapped hands, and threw up their sweaty night-caps, and uttered such a deal of stinking (460_6_6.016, score) | 40 |
| Casca. I know not what you mean by that; but I am sure Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and displeased them, as they use to do the players in the theatre, I am no true man. (460_6_6.017, annotated) | 49 |
| Cats. I know where I will wear this dagger then; Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself. If I know this, know all the world besides, (460_6_6.022, score2) | 79 |
| How that might change his nature, there's the question. It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; (460_6_6.025, checkmark) | 19 |
| Between the acting of a dreadful thing And the first motion, all the interim is Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: The genius, and the mortal instruments, (460_6_6.026, score) | 28 |
| Are then in council; and the state of man, Like to a little kingdom, suffers then The nature of an insurrection. (460_6_6.027, score) | 21 |
| To mask thy mounstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy Hide it in smiles, and affability; (460_6_6.027, checkmark) | 14 |
| Did need an oath; when every drop of blood, That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, Is guilty of a several bastardy, (460_6_6.029, score) | 22 |
| O that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, (460_6_6.030, score) | 23 |
| For, he can do no more than Caesar's arm, When Caesar's head is off. (460_6_6.030, score) | 14 |
| Boy! Lucius!— Fast asleep?— It is no matter; Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber. Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. (460_6_6.032, score) | 35 |
| Which sometime hath his hour with every man. (460_6_6.033, checkmark) | 8 |
| To walk unbraced, and suck up the humors Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick? (460_6_6.033, checkmark) | 16 |
| the humors Of the dank morning? (460_6_6.033, underline) | 6 |
| the vile contagion of the night? (460_6_6.033, underline) | 6 |
| the rheumy and unpurged air (460_6_6.033, underline) | 5 |
| Cal. When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of (460_6_6.036, line) | 17 |
| Caes. Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come, when it will come. (460_6_6.037, score) | 47 |
| Cas. Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence, Shall this our lofty scene be acted over, (460_6_6.047, score) | 17 |
| In states unborn, and accents yet unknown! (460_6_6.047, border) | 7 |
| Bru. How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, That now on Pompey's basis lies along, (460_6_6.047, score) | 16 |
| There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows, and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat; And We must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. (460_6_6.074, score3) | 54 |
| Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed. O hateful error, melancholy's child! Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of men The things that are not? O error, soon conceived, Thou never com'st unto a happy birth, (460_6_6.084, score3) | 40 |
| Our enemies have beat us to the pit. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius, Thou know'st that we two went to school together; (460_6_6.088, score) | 33 |
| My heart doth joy, that yet, in all my life, I found no man, but he was true to me. (460_6_6.089, score) | 20 |
| I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony Will be himself. (460_6_6.095, checkmark) | 11 |
| I'll seem the fool I am not; (460_6_6.095, underline) | 7 |
| Antony Will be himself. (460_6_6.095, underline) | 4 |
| Cleo. Was he not here? Char. No, madam. Cleo. He Was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden A Roman thought hath struck him. —Enobarbus,— (460_6_6.098, checkmark) | 25 |
| A Roman thought hath struck him. —Enobarbus,— (460_6_6.098, underline) | 7 |
| Mess. The nature of bad news infects the teller. (460_6_6.099, xmark) | 9 |
| What our contempts do often hurl from us, We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, By revolution lowering, does become The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; (460_6_6.100, score) | 29 |
| Eno. Under a compelling occasion, let women die. It were pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between them and a great cause, they should be esteemed nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least (460_6_6.100, score) | 34 |
| (Whose love is never linked to the deserver, Till his deserts are past) begin to throw (460_6_6.102, arcedscore) | 16 |
| Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, (460_6_6.103, checkmark) | 8 |
| Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, (460_6_6.107, score) | 7 |
| It hath been taught us from the primal state, That he, which is, was wished until he were; And the ebbed man, ne'er loved till ne'er Worth love, Comes deared, by being lacked." (460_6_6.108, score2) | 33 |
| Cleo. Be choked with such another emphasis! (460_6_6.112, xmark) | 7 |
| Mene. We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit, By losing of our prayers. (460_6_6.112, score) | 28 |
| And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, (460_6_6.115, checkmark) | 15 |
| Eno. Every time Serves for the matter that is then born in it. (460_6_6.115, checkmark) | 13 |
| May it be gently heard; when We debate Our trivial difference loud, We do commit Murder in wounds. Then, then, noble partners, (460_6_6.115, enclosure) | 22 |
| Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, (460_6_6.115, checkmark) | 8 |
| The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle You may pace easy, but not such a wife. (460_6_6.117, checkmark) | 20 |
| I'll play the penitent to you; but mine honesty Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, (460_6_6.118, checkmark) | 25 |
| Eno. That truth should be silent, I had almost forgot. (460_6_6.118, crosschecks2) | 10 |
| For 'tis a studied, not a present thought; (460_6_6.119, checkmark) | 8 |
| By duty ruminated. (460_6_6.119, checkmark) | 3 |
| Eno. .Ay, sir; We did sleep day out of countenance, and made the night light with drinking. Mec. Eight Wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and but twelve persons there. Is this true? .% (460_6_6.121, score) | 34 |
| Her people out upon her; and Antony, Enthroned in the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap in nature. (460_6_6.122, score) | 35 |
| Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side. Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable, Where Caesar's is not; but near him, thy angel Becomes a Fear, as being overpowered: therefore Make space enough between you. (460_6_6.124, score) | 42 |
| Ant. Get thee gone; Say to Ventidius, I would speak with him. (460_6_6.124, checkmark) | 12 |
| SCENE V. Alexandria. A Room in the Palace. (460_6_6.125, checkmark) | 8 |
| If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress; But well and free, If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings Have lipped, and trembled kissing. (460_6_6.126, score) | 37 |
| We use (460_6_6.126, underline) | 2 |
| To say, the dead are well (460_6_6.127, underline) | 6 |
| that, (460_6_6.127, underline) | 1 |
| pour Down thy ill-uttering throat. (460_6_6.127, underline) | 5 |
| Cleo. Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. (460_6_6.128, checkmark) | 7 |
| Though it be honest, it is never good To bring bad news. Give to a gracious message (460_6_6.128, score) | 17 |
| An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt. (460_6_6.129, checkmark) | 14 |
| The senators alone of this great world, Chief factors for the gods,— I do not know (460_6_6.130, score) | 16 |
| Put me to some impatience. Though I lose The praise of it by telling, (460_6_6.131, score) | 14 |
| Though I lose The praise of it by telling, (460_6_6.131, underline) | 9 |
| Men. All men's faces are true, whatsoe'er their hands are. (460_6_6.133, checkmark) | 10 |
| very strangler of their amity. Octavia is of a holy, cold, and still conversation. (460_6_6.134, checkmark) | 14 |
| Pom. Ah, this thou shouldst have done, And not have spoke on't! In me, 'tis villany; (460_6_6.137, checkmark) | 16 |
| Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offered, Shall never find it more. (460_6_6.138, score) | 15 |
| Ven. O Silius, Silius, I have done enough. A lower place,note well, May make too great an act. For learn this, Silius; Better to leave undone, than by our deed Acquire too high a fame, when him we serve's away. Caesar, and Antony, have ever won More in their officer, than person. Sossius, One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, For quick accumulation of renown, Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favor. Who; does i' the wars more than his captain can, Becomes his captain's captain; and ambition, The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, Than gain, which darkens him. I could do more to do Antonius good, But 'twould offend him; and in his offence (460_6_6.141, score) | 120 |
| rather makes choice of loss, Than gain, (460_6_6.141, underline) | 7 |
| Eno. Would you praise Caesar, say,— Caesar; go no further. (460_6_6.142, checkmark) | 10 |
| Ant. The April's in her eyes; it is love's spring, And these the showers to bring it on.— Be cheerful. (460_6_6.143, checkmark) | 20 |
| When the best hint was given him, he not took't, Or did it from his teeth. (460_6_6.147, checkmark) | 16 |
| But let determined things to destiny Hold unbewailed their way. Welcome to Rome; (460_6_6.152, score) | 13 |
| The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, (460_6_6.156, checkmark) | 5 |
| I am so lated in the world, that I Have lost my way forever. I have a ship (460_6_6.158, checkmark) | 18 |
| I followed that I blush to look upon. My very hairs do mutiny; for the white Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them For fear and doting.— Friends, be gone; you shall Have letters from me to some friends, that will Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, Nor make replies of loathness. Take the hint Which my despair proclaims; let that be left Which leaves itself. To the seaside straightway; I will possess you of that ship and treasure. Leave me, I pray, a little; 'pray you now; Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, Therefore I pray you ;—I'll see you by-and-by. [Sits down. (460_6_6.159, diagonalscore) | 112 |
| To the young man send humble treaties, dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness; (460_6_6.160, checkmark) | 15 |
| dodge And palter in the shifts of lowness; (460_6_6.160, underline) | 8 |
| Against a sworder.— I see, men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes; (460_6_6.164, checkmark) | 13 |
| and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike. (460_6_6.164, bracket) | 14 |
| Against the blown rose may they stop their nose, That kneeled unto the buds.— Admit him, sir. (460_6_6.164, checkmark) | 17 |
| I will ask Antony.— Sir, sir, thou'rt so leaky, That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for (460_6_6.165, checkmark) | 18 |
| Eno. 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp, Than with an old one dying. (460_6_6.166, checkmark) | 14 |
| furious, Is, to be frighted out of fear; and, in that mood, (460_6_6.170, score) | 12 |
| A diminution in our captain's brain Restores his heart. When valor preys on reason, It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek (460_6_6.170, score) | 24 |
| This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.— (460_6_6.175, checkmark) | 16 |
| Make her thanks bless thee.— O thou day o' the world, Chain mine armed neck; leap thou, attire and all, Through proof of harness to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing. (460_6_6.180, score) | 34 |
| Eno. O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, \ The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me; That life, a very rebel to my will, May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart Against the flint and hardness of my fault; Which being dried with grief, will break to powder, And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, Nobler than my revolt is infamous, Forgive me in thine own particular; But let the World rank me in register (460_6_6.181, wavyscore) | 77 |
| Scar. Swallows have built In Cleopatra's sails their nests; the augures (460_6_6.183, checkmark) | 11 |
| The soul and body rive not more in parting, Than greatness going off. (460_6_6.185, score2) | 13 |
| Thy name so buried in her. (460_6_6.187, score) | 6 |
| Ant. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep. —That thou depart'st hence safe, Does pay thy labor richly; go. —Off, pluck off;— [Exit MARDIAN. The sevenfold shield of Ajax cannot keep The battery from my heart O, cleave my sides! Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, Crack thy frail case! —Apace, Eros, apace.— No more a soldier. —Bruised pieces, go; You have been nobly borne. —From me awhile.— [Exit Enos. I Will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now All length is torture. Since the torch is out, (460_6_6.187, score) | 102 |
| Ant. Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, And we must sleep. —That thou depart'st hence safe, (460_6_6.187, score) | 19 |
| the long day's task is done, And we must sleep. (460_6_6.187, underline) | 11 |
| Lie down, and stray no further. Now all labor Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles Itself with strength. (460_6_6.187, score3) | 20 |
| very force entangles Itself with strength. (460_6_6.187, underline) | 6 |
| Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze. (460_6_6.187, score2) | 19 |
| Quartered the world, and o'er green Neptune's back With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack (460_6_6.188, checkmark) | 16 |
| A bridegroom in my death, and run into't (460_6_6.189, checkmark) | 8 |
| To grace it with your sorrows; bid that welcome Which comes to punish us, and we punish it, (460_6_6.191, checkmark) | 18 |
| Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe. Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes, And still conclusion, shall acquire no honor (460_6_6.192, score) | 21 |
| The crown o' the earth doth melt.— My lord!— O, withered is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fallen; young boys and girls Are level now with men; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable (460_6_6.193, score) | 41 |
| Cleo. No more, but e'en a woman; and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks, And does the meanest chares. —It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; To tell them that this world did equal theirs, Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught; (460_6_6.194, score2) | 53 |
| Patience is sottish; and impatience does Become a dog that's mad. Then is it sin, To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to us? —How do you, women? (460_6_6.194, score) | 33 |
| Patience is sottish; and impatience does Become a dog that's mad. (460_6_6.194, underline) | 11 |
| My noble girls! —Ah women, women! look, Our lamp is spent, it's out. —Good sirs, take heart. [To the Guard below. We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble, (460_6_6.194, score) | 30 |
| And make death proud to take us. Come away; This case of that huge spirit now is cold. Ah women, women! come; we have no friend (460_6_6.194, score) | 26 |
| Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touched. (460_6_6.196, checkmark) | 18 |
| But again in its exceptive sense. Waged here must mean to be opposed, as equal stakes in a wager; unless we suppose that weighed is meant. The second folio reads way. Launch, the word in the old copy, is only the obsolete spelling of lance. His for its. (460_6_6.196, score) | 48 |
| Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up, (460_6_6.200, diagonalscore) | 8 |
| Dol. Most sovereign creature,— Cleo. His legs bestrid the ocean: his reared arm Crested the world; his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like; they showed his back above The element they lived in. In his livery Walked crowns, and crownets; realms and islands were (460_6_6.201, brokenscore) | 86 |
| That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like; they showed his back above The element they lived in. In his livery (460_6_6.201, score) | 23 |
| That grew the more by reaping. His delights Were dolphin-like; they showed his back above (460_6_6.201, score) | 15 |
| is immortal; those that do die of it, do seldom or never recover. (460_6_6.208, checkmark) | 13 |
| Your crown's awry; (460_6_6.210, underline) | 3 |
| 1 Gent. He that hath missed the princess, is a thing Too bad for bad report; and he that hath her, (460_6_6.218, checkmark) | 21 |
| [Aside To walk this way. I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; (460_6_6.221, score) | 19 |
| To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you. For my sake, wear this; It is a manacle of love; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner. (460_6_6.221, score) | 32 |
| Slaver With lips as common as the stairs ~ That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hand Made hard with hourly falsehood, (falsehood, as (460_6_6.239, score) | 24 |
| every companion 9 that you give offence to. Clo. No, I know that; but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors. (460_6_6.244, checkmark) | 24 |
| Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gold Which makes the true man killed, and saves the thief; Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man. What Can it not do, and undo? I will make One of her women lawyer to me; for (460_6_6.249, score) | 62 |
| One of her women lawyer to me; for (460_6_6.249, underline) | 8 |
| Clo. His garment? Imo. I am sprighted with a fool; (460_6_6.252, checkmark) | 10 |
| I am sprighted with a fool; (460_6_6.252, underline) | 6 |
| The woman's part in me! for there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirm (460_6_6.259, score) | 18 |
| Gui. Out of your proof you speak. We, poor unfledged, Have never winged from view o' the nest; nor know not What air's from home. Haply, this life is best, If quiet life be best; sweeter to you, That have a sharper known; well corresponding With your stiff age; but, unto us, it is A cell of ignorance; travelling abed; (460_6_6.266, score) | 60 |
| We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey; Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat. (460_6_6.266, score) | 19 |
| subtle as the fox, for prey; Like warlike as the wolf, (460_6_6.266, underline) | 12 |
| Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. (460_6_6.296, underline) | 7 |
| Golden lads and girls all must, (460_6_6.296, annotated) | 6 |
| great (460_6_6.296, strikethrough) | 1 |
| tyrant's (460_6_6.296, strikethrough) | 1 |
| clothe, and eat (460_6_6.296, strikethrough) | 3 |
| The sceptre, learning, physic must (460_6_6.296, annotated) | 5 |
| Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; (460_6_6.296, underline) | 4 |
| Thou hast finished joy and moan. (460_6_6.297, underline) | 6 |
| No exorciser harm thee! (460_6_6.297, underline) | 4 |
| Quiet consummation have; (460_6_6.297, underline) | 3 |
| Jail. Your death has eyes in's head, then; I have not seen him so pictured. You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril; and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one. Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them. Jail. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking. (460_6_6.317, score) | 124 |
| Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming; it had been vicious To have mistrusted her. Yet, O my daughter! That it was folly in me, thou mayst say, (460_6_6.320, score) | 44 |
| Luc. The boy disdains me; He leaves me, scorns me; briefly die their joys, That place them on the truth of girls and boys. (460_6_6.321, score) | 24 |
| Throw me again. [Embracing him. Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die! Cym. How now, my flesh, my child? (460_6_6.326, score) | 23 |
| Having received the punishment before, For that which I did then. Beaten for loyalty (460_6_6.329, score) | 14 |
| Posthumus anchors upon Imogen; And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting Each object with a joy; the counterchange Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground, And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.— Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever. (460_6_6.331, score) | 51 |
| Post. Kneel not to me: The power that I have on you, is to spare you; The malice towards you, to forgive you. Live, And deal with others better. (460_6_6.332, score) | 29 |
| Is the sun dimned, that gnats do fly in it? The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby; Knowing that with the shadow of his wings, He can at pleasure stint their melody; Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome. Then cheer thy spirit; for know, thou emperor, I will enchant the old Andronicus, (460_6_6.402, score) | 63 |
| Knowing that with the shadow of his wings, (460_6_6.402, score) | 8 |
| Lear. Nothing can come of nothing; speak again. (460_7_7.012, checkmark) | 8 |
| Nothing can come of nothing; (460_7_7.012, underline) | 5 |
| Lear. How, how, Cordelia? mend your speech a little, Lest it may mar your fortunes. Cor. Good my lord, (460_7_7.012, score) | 19 |
| Obey you, love you, and most honor you. Why have my sisters husbands, if they say, They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry Half my love with him, half my care, and duty. Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, (460_7_7.013, score) | 53 |
| thy truth then be thy dower; (460_7_7.013, underline) | 6 |
| Let pride, which she calls plainness, (460_7_7.013, underline) | 6 |
| a tardiness in nature, (460_7_7.017, underline) | 4 |
| Gon. Prescribe not us our duties. (460_7_7.019, checkmark) | 6 |
| Cor. Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides; (460_7_7.019, checkmark) | 8 |
| Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides; (460_7_7.019, underline) | 7 |
| and pat he comes, like the catastrophe of the old comedy My cue is villanous melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o'Bedlam. —O, these eclipses do portend these (460_7_7.024, checkmark) | 28 |
| Fool. Why? For taking one's part that is out of favor; nay, and thou canst not smile as the wind sits, (460_7_7.030, score) | 21 |
| Truth's a dog that must to kennel. (460_7_7.031, underline) | 7 |
| Fathers, that wear rags, Do make their children blind; But fathers, that bear bags, Shall see their children kind. (460_7_7.055, score) | 19 |
| that's stinking. Let go thy hold, when a great wheel runs down a hill, lest it break thy neck with following it; but the great one that goes up the hill, let him draw thee after. When a wise man gives thee better counsel give me mine again; I would have none but knaves (460_7_7.056, score) | 54 |
| Reg. Ingrateful fox! 'tis he. (460_7_7.085, crosschecks2) | 5 |
| Ingrateful (460_7_7.085, underline) | 1 |
| See it shalt thou never. (460_7_7.087, underline) | 5 |
| comes behind him, (460_7_7.088, underline) | 3 |
| 1 Serv. I'll never care what wickedness I do, If this man comes to good. (460_7_7.088, score) | 15 |
| Edg. Yet better thus, and know to be contemned, (460_7_7.089, checkmark) | 9 |
| My father, poorly led? —World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee, (460_7_7.089, diagonalscore) | 17 |
| Glo. I have no way, and therefore want no eyes; I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen, (460_7_7.090, score) | 19 |
| at the worst? I am worse than e'er I was. (460_7_7.090, score) | 10 |
| That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; (460_7_7.092, checkmark) | 17 |
| that will not see Because he doth not feel, (460_7_7.092, underline) | 9 |
| Gon. No more; the text is foolish. Alb. Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savor but themselves. What have you done? (460_7_7.094, checkmark) | 24 |
| Gon. Milk-livered man! That bear'st a cheek for blows, a head for wrongs; (460_7_7.094, checkmark) | 13 |
| Kent. It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions; Else one self mate and mate, could not beget Such different issues. You spoke not with her since? (460_7_7.097, enclosure) | 30 |
| This world I do renounce; and, in your sights, Shake patiently my great affliction off. If I could bear it longer, and not fall To quarrel with your great, opposeless wills, My snuff, and loathed part of nature, should (460_7_7.102, score) | 39 |
| My snuff, and loathed part of nature, (460_7_7.102, underline) | 7 |
| scurvy politician, (460_7_7.107, underline) | 2 |
| To know our enemies' minds, we'd rip their hearts; (460_7_7.111, xmark) | 9 |
| O undistinguished space of woman's will!— (460_7_7.111, checkmark) | 6 |
| Edg. What, in ill thoughts again? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither (460_7_7.119, diagonalscore) | 17 |
| Shall we not see these daughters, and these sisters? (460_7_7.120, checkmark) | 9 |
| Lear. No, no, no, no! Come, let's away to prison: We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage. When thou dost ask me blessing, I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, Who loses, and who wins; who's in, who's out;— And take upon us the mystery of things, As if we were God's spies. And we'll wear out, In a walled prison, packs and sects of great ones, That ebb and flow by the moon. Edm. Take them away. Lear. Upon such sacrifices, my Cordelia, (460_7_7.120, score) | 118 |
| At gilded butterflies, (460_7_7.120, underline) | 3 |
| And the best quarrels, in the heat, are cursed By those that feel their sharpness.— (460_7_7.122, score) | 15 |
| This gilded serpent. [Pointing to Gon.]— For your claim, fair sister, (460_7_7.123, checkmark) | 11 |
| This gilded serpent. (460_7_7.123, underline) | 3 |
| That names me traitor, villain-like he lies. Call by thy trumpet; he that dares approach, On him, on you, (who not?) I will maintain My truth and honor firmly. Alb. A herald, ho! (460_7_7.124, score) | 33 |
| Gon. Say, if I do; the laws are mine, not thine. Who shall arraign me for't? Alb. Most monstrous! (460_7_7.126, score) | 19 |
| Edm. Yet Edmund was beloved. (460_7_7.129, checkmark) | 5 |
| Some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. (460_7_7.129, underline) | 12 |
| The wages of their virtue, and all foes The cup of their deservings. —O, see, see! Lear. And my poor fool is hanged! No, no, no life; (460_7_7.132, score) | 27 |
| 'Pray you, undo this button: (460_7_7.132, underline) | 5 |
| Kent. Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him, That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer. Edg. O, he is gone indeed. (460_7_7.132, score) | 31 |
| criticism, and that endeavors had been used to discredit and decry poetical justice. A play in which the wicked prosper, and the virtuous miscarry, may doubtless be good, because it is a just representation of the common events of human life; but, since all reasonable beings naturally love justice, I cannot easily be persuaded that the observation of justice (460_7_7.134, score) | 59 |
| Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that when (460_7_7.189, diagonalscore) | 45 |
| Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. (460_7_7.189, diagonalscore) | 35 |
| She's not well married, that lives married long; But she's best married, that dies married young. Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary (460_7_7.228, score) | 24 |
| For though fond nature bids us all lament, Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. Cap. All things, that we ordained festival, (460_7_7.228, score) | 21 |
| Are burned and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, (460_7_7.278, score) | 59 |
| It seems, it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, As it is common for the younger sort (460_7_7.288, score2) | 24 |
| Ros. Then is the world one. Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst. Ros. We think not so, my lord. Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so; to me it is a prison. Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind. Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams. Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow. Ros. Truly; and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow. Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies; and our monarchs, and outstretched heroes, the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. Ros. Guil. We'll wait upon you. (460_7_7.297, score) | 179 |
| Ros. We think not so, my lord. Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so; to me it is a prison. Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis (460_7_7.297, unidentifiedmark) | 42 |
| Ros. We think not so, my lord. (460_7_7.297, score) | 7 |
| Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so; to me it is a prison. (460_7_7.297, score) | 26 |
| But, what we do determine oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory; Of violent birth, but poor validity; Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. Most necessary 'tis, that we forget To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt. What to ourselves in passion we propose, (460_7_7.322, score) | 58 |
| The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. (460_7_7.323, checkmark) | 7 |
| For who not needs, shall never lack a friend; (460_7_7.323, checkmark) | 9 |
| And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemy. (460_7_7.323, arcedscore) | 14 |
| But, orderly to end where I begun,— Our wills and fates do so contrary run, That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. So think thou wilt no second husband wed; But die thy thoughts, when thy first lord is dead. (460_7_7.323, score) | 49 |
| For if the king like not the comedy, Why, then, belike, —he likes it not, perdy. (460_7_7.326, checkmark) | 16 |
| Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound, With all the strength and armor of the mind, To keep itself from 'noyance; but much more That spirit, upon whose weal depend and rest The lives of many. The cease of majesty (460_7_7.330, score) | 41 |
| Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound, With all the strength and armor of the mind, To keep itself from 'noyance; but much more That spirit, upon whose weal depend and rest The lives of many. The cease of majesty (460_7_7.330, diagonalscore) | 41 |
| In the corrupted currents of this world, Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice; And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself (460_7_7.331, diagonalscore) | 22 |
| Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks. It will but skin and film the ulcerous place; (460_7_7.338, score) | 33 |
| Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg; (460_7_7.339, checkmark) | 7 |
| Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath ate of a king; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.] King. What dost thou mean by this? Ham. Nothing, but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius? Ham. In heaven; send. thither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i'the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby. (460_7_7.346, score) | 98 |
| Why the man dies. —I humbly thank you, sir. Cap. God be wi' you, sir. [Exit Captain. (460_7_7.348, checkmark) | 17 |
| Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great, Is, not to stir without great argument; (460_7_7.349, score2) | 15 |
| And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine. Then up he rose, and donned his clothes, And dupped the chamber-door; Let in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more. King. Pretty Ophelia! Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't. (460_7_7.352, wavyscore) | 47 |
| valor; and in the grapple I boarded them. On the instant they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of (460_7_7.360, score) | 31 |
| 2 Clo. Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of Christian burial. 1 Clo. Why, there thou say'st; and the more pity; (460_7_7.368, score) | 34 |
| it; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. —How long hast thou been a grave-maker? (460_7_7.372, score) | 32 |
| There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will. (460_7_7.378, score) | 12 |
| 'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes Between the pass and fell incensed points Of mighty opposites. Hor. Why, what a king is this? (460_7_7.380, score) | 24 |
| bevy, that, I know, the drossy age dotes on) only got the tune of the time, and outward habit of encounter; a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and through the most fanned and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out. (460_7_7.384, score2) | 50 |
| only got the tune of the time, (460_7_7.384, underline) | 7 |
| Hor. If your mind dislike any thing, obey it. I will (460_7_7.385, checkmark) | 11 |
| If your mind dislike any thing, obey it. (460_7_7.385, underline) | 8 |
| Hor. Never believe it; I am more an antique Roman than a Dane, Here's yet some liquor left. Ham. As thou'rt a man,— (460_7_7.390, score) | 23 |
| O God! —Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.— [March afar off, and shot within. (460_7_7.390, score) | 49 |
| The Moor already changes with my poison. Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons, Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste; But, with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.— I did say so;— (460_7_7.462, score) | 41 |
| Oth. By the world, I think my wife be honest, and think she is not; I think that thou art just, and think thou art not; I'll have some proof. Her name, that was as fresh (460_7_7.464, score) | 36 |
| supplied (460_5_5.241, strikethrough) | 1 |
| 'Ginning in the middle; starting thence away To what may be digested in a play. Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are; Now, good, or bad, 'tis but the chance of war. (460_5_5.246, score) | 34 |
| Agam. Princes, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? The ample proposition, that hope makes In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promised largeness; checks and disasters Grow in the veins of actions highest reared; As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, Infect the sound pine, and divert his grain Tortive and errant from his course of growth. Nor, princes, is it matter new to us, That we come short of our suppose so far, That, after seven years' siege, yet Troy walls stand; Sith every action that hath gone before, Whereof we have record, trial did draw (460_5_5.259, wavyscore) | 104 |
| The ample proposition, that hope makes In all designs begun on earth below, Fails in the promised largeness; (460_5_5.259, underline) | 18 |
| The hard and soft, seem all affined and kin; But, in the wind and tempest of her frown, Distinction, with a broad and powerful fan, Puffing at all, winnows the light away; And what hath mass, or matter, by itself Lies rich in virtue, and unmingled. (460_5_5.260, score) | 46 |
| The thing I shall repent. See, see, your silence, Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness draws (460_5_5.299, wavyscore2) | 16 |
| Achil. My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred: And I myself see not the bottom of it. (460_5_5.311, enclosure) | 18 |
| Do not count it holy (460_5_5.344, underline) | 5 |
| To hurt by being just; it is as lawful, (460_5_5.345, score) | 9 |
| One sin, I know, another doth provoke; Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke. Poison and treason are the hands of sin, (460_6_6.435, scoresinout) | 24 |
| Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence; (460_6_6.437, checkmark) | 9 |
| Which care of them, not pity of myself, (Who am no more but as the tops of trees, Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend them,) (460_6_6.437, diagonalscore) | 28 |
| Which care of them, not pity of myself, (460_6_6.437, line) | 8 |
| 'Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss. (460_6_6.439, underline) | 9 |
| I knew him tyrannous; and tyrants' fears Decrease not, but grow faster than their years. (460_6_6.439, diagonalscore) | 15 |
| And make pretence of wrong that I have done him. (460_6_6.439, checkmark) | 10 |
| he was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets} Now do I see he (460_6_6.441, checkmark) | 33 |
| Boult. 'Faith, they listened to me, as they would have hearkened to their father's testament. There was (460_6_6.486, checkmark) | 17 |
| Unless you play the impious innocent, (460_6_6.488, diagonalscore) | 6 |
| Cle. Thou art like the harpy, Which, to betray, doth with thine angel's face Seize with thine eagle's talons. (460_6_6.489, diagonalscore) | 19 |
| No visor does become black villany, So well as soft and tender flattery. (460_6_6.491, score2) | 13 |