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A mad-cap ruffian, and a swearing jack,
I know them, yea,
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh,
I'll turn two mincing steps
Since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,I will be brief.
None does offend, none, I say none; I'll able 'em :
What, shall one of us,
You have ungently, Brutus, Stole from my bed : and yesternight, at supper, You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, Musing, and sighing, with your arms across : And when I ask'd you what the matter was, You star'd upon me with ungentle looks.
Then, gentle Clarence, welcome unto Warwick;
The wound of peace is surety,
It seems, it is as proper to our age
Trust noner For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog.
Be advis’d; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it doth singe yourself: We may outrun, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire, that mounts the liquor till it run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it? Be advis’d. When clouds are seen, wise men put on their cloaks; When great leaves fall, then winter is at hand; When the sun sets, who doth not look for night? Untimely storms make men expect a dearth : All may
be well; but, if God sort it so, 'Tis more than we deserve, or I expect.
I never in
life Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, Unless a brother should a brother dare To gentle exercise and proof of arms. Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, And mark my greeting well; for what I speak, My body shall make good upon this earth, Or my
divine soul answer it in heaven. Thou art a traitor and a miscreant.
For his bounty, There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas, That grew the more by reaping.
Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel; That thou may'st shake the superflux to them, And shew the heavens more just.
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment, With character too gross, is writ on Juliet.
Almost at fainting, under The pleasing punishment that women bear.
At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. The whining school boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.
Behold, my Lords,
poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her
young ones in her nest, against the owl. Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks, Which, like unruly children, make their Sire Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight.
O, 'tis a parlous boy ; Bold, quick, ingenious, forward, capable; He's all the mother's, from the top to toe. Father cardinal, I have heard you say, That we shall see and know our friends in heaven :