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

Actii, Sc. 3.

Your name is great In mouths of wisest censure.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Iago. What, are you hurt, lieutenant ?
Cas. Ay, past all surgery.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil ! Act ii. Sc. 3.

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

Actii. Sc. 3.

Cas. Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil.

Iago. Come, come; good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.

Act ü. Sc. 3.

Perdition catch my soul,
But I do love thee ! and when I love thee not,
Chaos is come again.*

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Good name, in man and woman, dear my lord,
Is the immediate jewel of their souls.
Who steals my purse, steals trash ; 't is something,

nothing ; 'Twas mine,'t is his, and has been slave to thousands;

* For he being dead, with him is beauty slain,
And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again.

Venus and Adonis.

But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

But oh! what damned minutes tells her o’er,
Who dotes, yet doubts; suspects, yet strongly loves !*

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Poor and content is rich, and rich enough. Act iii. Sc. 3.

To be once in doubt, Is once to be resolved.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

If I do prove her haggard, Though that her jesses were my dear heart-strings, I'd whistle her off, and let her down the wind To prey at fortune.

Act ïïi. Sc. 3.

Declined into the vale of years.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

That we can call these delicate creatures ours,
And not their appetites.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Trifles, light as air,
Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong
As proofs of holy writ.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

* The folios have, soundly loves.


poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow’dst yesterday.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

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

Act ii. Sc. 3.
O, now, forever,
Farewell the tranquil mind ! farewell content !
Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
That make ambition virtue! O farewell !
Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump,
The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife.

Act iii. Sc. 3. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war.

Act iii. Sc. 3. Othello's occupation's gone !

Act iii. Sc. 3.

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But yet the pity of it, Iago ! O lago, the pity of it, Iago.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

Steeped me in poverty to the very lips.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

But, alas ! to make me
The fixed figure for the time of scorn
To point his slow, and moving finger at.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

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

Act iv. Sc. 2.

'Tis neither here nor there.

Activ. Sc. 3.

This is the night
That either makes me or fordoes me quite.

Act v. Sc. I.

He hath a daily beauty in his life.

Act v, Sc. 1.

One entire and perfect chrysolite.

Act v. Sc. 2.

I have done the state some service, and they know it.

Act v. Sc. 2.

Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak
Of one that loved not wisely, but too well.

Act y. Sc. 2.

Of one, whose hand, Like the base Júdean, threw a pearl away, Richer than all his tribe.

4cí v. Sc. 2.

Albeit unused to the melting mood.

Act v. Sc. 2.


Bid me discourse, I will

hant thine ear.


O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear.

Stanza xlii.


Crabbed age and youth
Cannot live together.

Stanza viii.

Have you not heard it said full oft
A woman's nay doth stand for naught.

Stanza xiv.


And stretched metre of an antique song.

Sonnet xvii.

The painful warrior, famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the books of honour razed quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.

Sonnet xxv.

Like stones of worth they thinly placed are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.

Sonnet li.

And simple truth miscalled simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill.

Sonnet lxvi.

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