Measure for Measure, Volume 19

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Page 56 - Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? 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.
Page 37 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once ; And He, that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy : How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are ? O, think on that ; And mercy then will breathe within your lips. Like man new made.
Page 40 - That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom ; Knock there ; and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault ; if it confess A natural guiltiness such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.
Page 54 - For all the accommodations that thou bear'st, Are nurs'd 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...
Page 5 - 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...
Page 122 - 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.
Page 59 - tis too horrible. The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Page 72 - 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 ! But who comes here ? Enter Escalus, Provost, Bawd, and Officers.
Page 16 - Becomes more mock'd, than fear'd : so our decrees, Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead ; And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart Goes all decorum.
Page 58 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world...

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