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MENENIUS: One word more, one word. This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, And sack great Rome with Romans. |
ISABELLA: Most strange, but yet most truly, will I speak: That Angelo's forsworn; is it not strange? That Angelo's a murderer; is 't not strange? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, An hypocrite, a virgin-violator; Is it not strange and strange? |
LUCIO: Well, then, imprison him: if imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right: bawd is he doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd-born. Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison, Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house. |
GREGORY: No, for then we should be colliers. |
CURTIS: Here. |
AUFIDIUS: Why, noble lords, Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, 'Fore your own eyes and ears? |
MOPSA: Let's have some merry ones. |
LUCENTIO: Well begun, Tranio. |
TRANIO: I' faith, he'll have a lusty widow now, That shall be wood and wedded in a day. |
ESCALUS: Hath she had any more than one husband? |
HORTENSIO: Well, Petruchio, this has put me in heart. Have to my widow! and if she be froward, Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be untoward. |
PAULINA: I am sorry for't: All faults I make, when I shall come to know them, I do repent. Alas! I have show'd too much The rashness of a woman: he is touch'd To the noble heart. What's gone and what's past help Should be past grief: do not receive affliction At my petition; I beseech you, rather Let me be punish'd, th... |
GLOUCESTER: I know not whether to depart in silence, Or bitterly to speak in your reproof. Best fitteth my degree or your condition If not to answer, you might haply think Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty, Which fondly you would here impose on me; If to reprove you for ... |
BUCKINGHAM: No, by my troth, my lord. |
All: |
All: We know't, we know't. |
FERDINAND: O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. |
QUEEN ELIZABETH: Go, go, poor soul, I envy not thy glory To feed my humour, wish thyself no harm. |
Second Watchman: Ay, wherefore else guard we his royal tent, But to defend his person from night-foes? |
LADY ANNE: God give your graces both A happy and a joyful time of day! |
Post: These were her words, utter'd with mad disdain: 'Tell him, in hope he'll prove a widower shortly, I'll wear the willow garland for his sake.' |
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