Shakespeare

These are the forgeries of jealousy;
And never, since the middle summer’s spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest, or mead,
By pavèd fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beachèd margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturbed our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge have sucked up from the sea
Contagious fogs, which, falling in the land,
Hath every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents.
The ox hath therefore stretched his yoke in vain,
The plowman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attained a beard.
The fold stands empty in the drownèd field,
And crows are fatted with the murrain flock.
The nine-men’s-morris is filled up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green,
For lack of tread, are undistinguishable.
The human mortals want their winter here.
No night is now with hymn or carol blessed.
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound.
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems’ thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazèd world
By their increase now knows not which is which.
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.

 

Titania (AMSND) Monologue. Act 2 Scene 1 https://www.stagemilk.com/titania-monologue-act-2-scene-1/

Set your heart at rest:
The Fairyland buys not the child of me.
His mother was a vot’ress of my order,
And in the spicèd Indian air by night
Full often hath she gossiped by my side
And sat with me on Neptune’s yellow sands,
Marking th’ embarkèd traders on the flood,
When we have laughed to see the sails conceive
And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind;
Which she, with pretty and with swimming gait,
Following (her womb then rich with my young squire),
Would imitate and sail upon the land
To fetch me trifles and return again,
As from a voyage, rich with merchandise.
But she, being mortal, of that boy did die,
And for her sake do I rear up her boy,
And for her sake I will not part with him.

Titania (AMSND) Act 2 Scene 1

Titania's explanation of her bond with the changeling child, revealing her connection to his mother, a fairy who has died.

So may the outward shows be least themselves;

The world is still deceived with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
But, being seasoned with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
What damnèd error but some sober brow
Will bless it and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple but assumes
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
How many cowards whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
Who inward searched have livers white as milk,
And these assume but valor’s excrement
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it.
So are those crispèd snaky golden locks,
Which maketh such wanton gambols with the wind
Upon supposèd fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second head,
The skull that bred them in the sepulcher.
Thus ornament is but the guilèd shore
To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The seeming truth which cunning times put on
To entrap the wisest. Therefore, then, thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee.
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
’Tween man and man. But thou, thou meager lead,
Which rather threaten’st than dost promise aught,
Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence,
And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!

Bassanio. The Merchant of Venice, Act 3 Scene 2

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,

Such as I am. Though for myself alone
I would not be ambitious in my wish
To wish myself much better, yet for you
I would be trebled twenty times myself,
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
More rich, that only to stand high in your account
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account. But the full sum of me
Is sum of something, which, to term in gross,
Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticed;
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; happier than this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
Happiest of all, is that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed
As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the lord
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen o’er myself; and even now, but now,
This house, these servants, and this same myself
Are yours, my lord’s. I give them with this ring,
Which, when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the ruin of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Portia. Merchant of Venice: Act 3.2 line 153

Tarry a little. There is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood.
The words expressly are “a pound of flesh.”
 Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh,
 But in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
 One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
 Are by the laws of Venice confiscate

Unto the state of Venice.

Portia (as Balthazar). Merchant of Venice act 4 scene 1. She’s looking for the pound of flesh that was promised by Balthazar. This is really fucked on the part of Portia… she is not being very nice to Shylock.

Let not that doctor e’er come near my house!
 Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,
 And that which you did swear to keep for me,
 I will become as liberal as you:
 I’ll not deny him anything I have,
 No, not my body, nor my husband’s bed.

Know him I shall, I am well sure of it.
 Lie not a night from home. Watch me like Argus.
 If you do not, if I be left alone,
 Now by mine honor, which is yet mine own,
 I’ll have that doctor for ⌜my⌝ bedfellow.

Portia Merchant of Venice act 5 scene 1. Line 240

I have been studying how I may compare
This prison where I live unto the world,
And for because the world is populous
And here is not a creature but myself
I cannot do it.  Yet I'll hammer't out.
My brain I'll prove the female of my soul,
My soul the father, and these two beget
A generation of still breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world
In humours like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented.  The better sort,
As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word--
As thus: 'Come, little ones', and then again
'It is as hard to come as for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'
Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world my ragged prison walls,
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 rocks, refuge their shame
That many have and others must set there,
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
Of such as have before endured the like.
Thus play I in one person many people,
And none contented.  Sometimes am I king,
Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am.  Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king,
Then am I kinged again, and by and by
Think that I am unkined by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing.  But whate'er I be
Nor I nor any man but man is
With nothing shall be pleased till he be eased
With being nothing.

 

King Richard II in King Richard II… Act 5 Scene 5 right at the beginning Monologue of him being angry…

Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be.
 Therefore no “no,” for I resign to thee.
 Now, mark me how I will undo myself.
 I give this heavy weight from off my head
 And this unwieldy scepter from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart.
 With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
 With mine own hands I give away my crown,
 With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
 With mine own breath release all duteous oaths.
 All pomp and majesty I do forswear.
 My manors, rents, revenues I forgo;
 My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny.
 God pardon all oaths that are broke to me.
 God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee.
 Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,

Act 4 Scene 1 King Richard II speaking in his play... line 210

Bolingbroke is pissed at his cousin… KINGS TWO BODIES

I weep for joy
To stand upon my kingdom once again.
Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hooves.
As a long-parted mother with her child
Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
So weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favours with my royal hands.
Feed not thy soverien's foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense
But let thy spiders that suck up thy venom
And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way,
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies,
And when thy from thy bosom pluck a flower
Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder
Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Therow death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.
This earth shall have a feeling and these stones
Prove armèd soldiers ere her native king
Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.

King Richard in Richard II… Act 3 Scene 2 line 4. He is lamenting his cousin coming to take his crown…

O, my liege,
 Pardon me if you please. If not, I, pleased
 Not to be pardoned, am content withal.
 Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
 The royalties and rights of banished Hereford?

Is not Gaunt dead? And doth not Herford live?
Was not Gaunt just? And is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserve and heir?
Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
Take Herford's rights away and take from time
His charters and his customary rights.
Let not tomorrow then ensue today.
Be not thyself.  For how art thou a king
But by fair sequence and succession?
Now, afore God--God forbid I say true--
If you do wrongfully seize Herford's rights,
Call in the letters patents that he hath
By his attorneys-general to sue
His livery, and deny his offered homage,
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
You lose a thousand well-disposèd hearts,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.

York in Richard II Act 2 Scene 1…Line ~200

Here is a dear, a true industrious friend
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.
Stain'd with the variation of each soil
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours|

Henry IV in Henry IV… Act 1, Scene 1… Line 64

I know you all, and will awhile uphold
The unyoked humor of your idleness.
Yet herein will I imitate the sun,
Who doth permit the base contagious clouds
To smother up his beauty from the world,
That, when he please again to be himself,
Being wanted, he may be more wondered at
By breaking through the foul and ugly mists
Of vapors that did seem to strangle him.
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work,
But when they seldom come, they wished-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
So when this loose behavior I throw off
And pay the debt I never promisèd,
By how much better than my word I am,
By so much shall I falsify men’s hopes;
And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,
My reformation, glitt’ring o’er my fault,
Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
 Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

This is Prine Hal (Henry cousin or whatever) who is talking with Falstaff and telling him he will be better than him Part 1. Act 1 Scene 2…

Thus did I keep my person fresh and new,
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne’er seen but wondered at, and so my state,
Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast
And won by rareness such solemnity.
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,
Mingled his royalty with cap’ring fools,
Had his great name profanèd with their scorns,
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push
Of every beardless vain comparative;
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoffed himself to popularity,
That, being daily swallowed by men’s eyes,
They surfeited with honey and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze
Such as is bent on sunlike majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,
But rather drowsed and hung their eyelids down,
Slept in his face, and rendered such aspect
As cloudy men use to their adversaries,
Being with his presence glutted, gorged, and f

King Henry IV Part 1… Act 3 scene 2 Line 35 or so

1. Sblood, ’twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot Counterfeit?  I lie.  I am no counterfeit.  To die is to be a counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man; but to counterfeit dying when a man thereby liveth is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed.  The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.  Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead.  How if he should counterfeit too, and rise?  By my faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.  Therefore I’ll make him sure, yea, and I’ll swear I killed him.  Why may not he rise as well as I?  Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.  Therefore, sirrah, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

 

Falstaff in King Henry IV… Act 5 scene 4. Falstaff has faked his own death… Talking about what it means to be a counterfeit

One word more, I beseech you: if you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair Katherine of France, where, for anything I know, Falstaff shall die of a sweat, unless, already he be killed with your hard opinions; for Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man. My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid you good night.

Epilogue of Henry IV Part 2 where we hear about the events after the play…

H]onor pricks me on. Yea, but how if honor prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honor set to a leg? no: or an arm? No: or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, then? No. What is honor? A word. What is in that word honor? What is that honor? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? No. 'Tis insensible, then. Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? N Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of it. Honor is a mere scutcheon: and so ends my catechism.

Falstaff in Henry IV Part 1… Act 5 scene 1… before he pretends to fake his own death….

7. To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
   Better opinion, better confirmation,
   For all the soil of the achievement goes
   With me into the earth. It seemed in me
   But as an honor snatched with boist’rous hand,
   And I had many living to upbraid
   My gain of it by their assistances,
   Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
   Wounding supposèd peace. All these bold fears
   Thou seest with peril I have answerèd,
   For all my reign hath been but as a scene
   Acting that argument. And now my death
   Changes the mood, for what in me was purchased
   Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort.
   So thou the garland wear’st successively.
   Yet though thou stand’st more sure than I could do,
   Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green,
   And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,
   Have but their stings and teeth newly ta’en out,
   By whose fell working I was first advanced
   And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
   |To be again displaced; which to avoid,
   I cut them off and had a purpose now
   To lead out many to the Holy Land,
   Lest rest and lying still might make them look
   Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
   Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
   With foreign quarrels, that action, hence borne out,
   May waste the memory of the former days.

Henry IV Part 2. Act 4 scene 5… Henry IV to his son Hal, who will become Henry V. IV is on his deathbed…

If you would conjure in her, you must make a circle; if conjure up Love in her in his true likeness, he must appear naked and blind. Can you blame her, then, being a maid yet rosed over with the virgin crimson of modesty, if she deny the appearance of a naked blind boy in her naked seeing self?  It were, my lord, a hard condition for a maid to consign to.

Burgundy in Henry V saying this to King Henry V… Act 5 scene 2. It is about Henry’s courtship of Katherine the French princess who basically speaks no English…Line 20

I think it is in Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of the ‘orld, I warrant you shall find, in comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike.  There is a river in Macedon, and there is also, moreover, a river at Monmouth.  It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river.  But ‘tis all one; ‘tis alike as my fingers to my fingers, and there is salmons in both.  If you mark Alexander’s life well, Harry of Monmouth’s life is come after it indifferent well, for there is figures in all things.  Alexander, God knows and you know, in his rages and his furies and his wraths and his cholers and his moods and his displeasures and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his best friend Cleitus.

Spoken by Captain Fluellen, the random Welsh guy in Henry’s troop. Henry V Act 4 scene 7

Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O’erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
If not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Desire the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters,
Your fathers taken by the silver beards
 And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls,
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod’s bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? Will you yield and this avoid
Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed?

Henry V to his men before the siege of Harflefur… Act 3 scene 3… this is in Henry V…

For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
Although I did admit it as a motive
 The sooner to effect what I intended.

It’s Cambridge who says this, one of the traitors in act 2, scene 2 Line 155. Henry wonders why they would traitorize him

And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his
Hath turned his balls to gun-stones, and his soul
Shall stand sore chargèd for the wasteful vengeance
That shall fly with them; for many a thousand widows
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands, 
Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down;
And some are yet ungotten and unborn
That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin’s scorn.
But this lies all within the will of God,
To whom I do appeal, and in whose name
Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on,
To venge me as I may and to put forth
My rightful hand in a well-hallowed cause.
So get you hence in peace. And tell the Dauphin
His jest will savor but of shallow wit
When thousands weep more than did laugh at it.

Act 1, Scene 2 in Henry V… Henry is saying while people laugh Dauphin has some actual consequences in his actions.

Not a whit. We defy augury. There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it it be now, ‘tis not to come; if it be not to come, it if be now, ’tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will The readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves knows, what is ’t to leave betimes? Let be.

“Hamlet” Spoken by Hamlet in Act 5 scene 2. He is about to kill Claudius

Now might I do it pat, now he is a-praying,
And now I’ll do’t. And so he goes to heaven,
And so am I revenged. That would be scanned:
A villain kills my father, and for that,
I, his sole son, do this same villain send
To heaven. Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
He took my father grossly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven.
But in our circumstance and course of thought
’Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?
No. Up sword, and know thou a more horrid hent
When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
Or in th’ incestuous pleasure of his bed,
At game, a-swearing, or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in ’t—
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
And that his soul may be as damned and black
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.

Hamlet in “Hamlet” Hamlet is saying that he cannot kill Claudius while he is praying bc that would be unjust… Act 3 scene 3

This is one Lucianus, Nephew to the king

This is act 3 scene 2 in Hamlet’s play… he is saying that he is going to kill his own uncle and that he knows that his own uncle is guilty…

Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature. For anything so o’erdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is to hold , as t’were, the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone or come tardy off, though it makes the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve, the censure of the which one must in your allowance o’erweigh a whole theater of others. O, there be players that I have seen play and heard others praise (and that highly), not to speak it profanely, that, neither having th’accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature’s journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

Act 3 scene 2 of Hamlet. Hamlet is talking to the players in his play… saying that there has to be some seperation between

To be or not to be—that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep—
No more—and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to—’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep—
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
 The undiscovered country from whose bourn
 No traveler returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action

Hamlet. Hamlet act 3 scene 1 when Hamlet is contemplating suicide…

Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
“Mad” call I it, for, to define true madness,
What is ’t but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

Polonius in Hamlet Act 2, scene 2… telling the queen that her son has gone mad

Then senseless Ilium,
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus’ ear. For lo, his sword,
Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seemed i’ th’ air to stick.
So as a painted tyrant Pyrrhus stood
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,
Did nothing.
But as we often see against some storm
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus’ pause,
Arousèd vengeance sets him new a-work,
And never did the Cyclops’ hammers fall
On Mars’s armor, forged for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus’ bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.

First Player in Hamlet 3.3 THis is Hamlet’s play that he puts on… about some senseless murder IDT it will be on quiz…

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death
The memory be green, and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe,
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
That we with wisest sorrow think on him
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
Th’ imperial jointress to this warlike state,
Have we (as ’twere with a defeated joy,
With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole)
Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along. For all, our thanks.

Claudius speaking in Hamlet 1.2. Very condescending speech… he doesn’t mean any of what he is saying

I left no ring with her. What means this lady?
⌜She picks up the ring.⌝
 Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her!
 She made good view of me, indeed so much
20 That methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
 For she did speak in starts distractedly.
 She loves me, sure! The cunning of her passion
 Invites me in this churlish messenger.

None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
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

Twelth Night… Viola Act 2 scene 2. She is disguised as Cesario and is being courted by Orsinio… Olivia falls for Cesario and tried to get him/her to get her to come back with this ring but in this speech she says she didn’t leave it so she’s confused.

What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
_______That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
_______What thinkest thou of his opinion?
_______ I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.
_______Fare thee well. Remain thou still in darkness: thou shalt hold the opinion of Pythagoras ere I will allow of thy wits, and fear to kill a woodcock, lest thou dispossess the soul of thy grandam. Fare thee well.

Feste first then Malvolio. Act 4 scene 2. Feste is mocking Malvolio and being a dick to him after the gaslight.

I’ll be revenged on the whole pack of you.

Malvolio… Act 5, scene 1. Malvolio has been humiliated and imprisoned because he thought Olivia loved him..Orchestrated by Feste toby, Maria, and Fabian

A lady, sir, though it was said she much resembled
me, was yet of many accounted beautiful: but,
though I could not with such estimable wonder
overfar believe that, yet thus far I will boldly
publish her; she bore a mind that envy could not but
call fair. She is drowned already, sir, with salt
water, though I seem to drown her remembrance again with more.

Sebastian in Twelth Night… Act 2 scene 1. Sebastian thinks that his twin, Viola is dead and that there is someone who looks just like them. This whole play is about thinking one thing and reality is different

Like a drowned man, a fool and a mad man: one
draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads
him; and a third drowns him.

Feste the Fool in Twelth Night… Act 1 Scene 5. he’s talking to sir Toby and Andrew… Feste is very smart and Andrew winds up being the fool

A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ingrateful boy there by your side,
From the rude sea's enraged and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him and did thereto add
My love, without retention or restraint,
All his in dedication; for his sake
Did I expose myself, pure for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him when he was beset:
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance,
And grew a twenty years removed thing
While one would wink; denied me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
Not half an hour before.

Antonio in Twelth Night… Act 5 scene 1. He is the sea captain and friend of Sebastian… he thinks Viola (cesario) is Sebastian and is very confused. He feels betrayed by who he thinks is Seb and there is def some homoerotica going on…

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
O spirit of love! how quick and fresh art thou,
That, notwithstanding thy capacity
Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,
Of what validity and pitch soe'er,
But falls into abatement and low price,
Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.

1.1 in Twelth Night

Spoken by Orsinio. It is ABOUT THE SEA MUSIC IS THE FOOD OF… Talking about his unrequited love for Olivia…

1. When that I was and a little tiny boy,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   But when I came to man's estate,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   But when I came, alas! to wive,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   By swaggering could I never thrive,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   But when I came unto my beds,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   A great while ago the world begun,
   With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
   A foolish thing was but a toy,
   For the rain it raineth every day.
   
   But that's all one, our play is done,
   And we'll strive to please you every day.

Feste the fool at the end of the play 12th night… He is saying that life is hard blah blah blah

1. It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.
   Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars.
   It is the cause. Yet I’ll not shed her blood,
   Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
   And smooth as monumental alabaster.
   Yet she must die, else she’ll betray more men.
   Put out the light, and then put out the light.
   If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
   I can again thy former light restore
   Should I repent me. But once put out thy light,
   Thou cunning’st pattern of excelling nature,
   I know not where is that Promethean heat
   That can thy light relume. 

Othello in Othello Act 5 scene 2 the end of the play… He is saying that he does love her but he does have to kill her, very complex

Let husbands know

Their wives have sense like them. They see, and smell,
And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
I think it doth. Is ’t frailty that thus errs?
It is so too. And have not we affections,
Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?
 Then let them use us well. Else let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.

Emilia in Othello Act 4, Scene 3… She is talking with Desdemona about how men suck so much because of Othello’s accusations… Emilia is undressing Desdemona at the time so you can really see their affection for one another and the way that Desdemona trusts Emilia way more than Othello…

_____That’s a fault. That handkerchief
Did an Egyptian to my mother give.
She was a charmer, and could almost read
The thoughts of people. She told her, while she kept it,
’Twould make her amiable and subdue my father
Entirely to her love. But if she lost it,
Or made a gift of it, my father’s eye
Should hold her loathèd, and his spirits should hunt
After new fancies. She, dying, gave it me,
And bid me, when my fate would have me wived,
To give it her. I did so; and take heed on ’t,
 Make it a darling like your precious eye.
 To lose ’t or give ’t away were such perdition
 As nothing else could match.
________ Is ’t possible? 
 ________’Tis true. There’s magic in the web of it.
 A sybil that had numbered in the world
 The sun to course two hundred compasses,
 In her prophetic fury sewed the work.
85 The worms were hallowed that did breed the silk,
 And it was dyed in mummy, which the skillful
 Conserved of maidens’ hearts.
________   I’ faith, is ’t true?

Othello and Desdemona talking in Othello Act 3 scene 4. they’re talking about the strawberry hankerchief which she loses and then Iago gaslights him… ALREADY LOST IN THIS PASSAGE

I am glad I have found this napkin.
This was her first remembrance from the Moor.
My wayward husband hath a hundred times
Wooed me to steal it. But she so loves the token
(For he conjured her she should ever keep it)
That she reserves it evermore about her
To kiss and talk to. I’ll have the work ta’en out
And give ’t Iago. What he will do with it
Heaven knows, not I.
I nothing but to please his fantasy.

Emilia in Othello Act 3 scene 3 Before the other scene, Emilia finds the napkin and will give to Iago which is so dumb… There is an attraction to Iago that everyone has…

How am I then a villain
To counsel Cassio to this parallel course
Directly to his good? Divinity of hell!
When devils will the blackest sins put on,
They do suggest at first with heavenly shows,
As I do now. For whiles this honest fool
Plies Desdemona to repair his fortune,
And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor,
I’ll pour this pestilence into his ear:
That she repeals him for her body’s lust;
And by how much she strives to do him good,
She shall undo her credit with the Moor.
So will I turn her virtue into pitch,
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all

 

Act 2 scene 3, Othello. Iago speaking in a soliloquy about how he is justifying his actions…

6. O sweet England!
   King Stephen was and-a worthy peer,
   His breeches cost him but a crown;
   He held them sixpence all too dear;
   With that he called the tailor lown.
   He was a wight of high renown,
   And thou art but of low degree;
   ’Tis pride that pulls the country down,
   Then take thy auld cloak about thee.

 

Song in Othello… Iaho sings this to get Cassio drunk in 2.3 as he is reveling in his own gaslighting… he is going to get Othello to think the Cassio slept with Desdemona…

 I ran it through, even from my boyish days
To th’ very moment that he bade me tell it,
Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances:
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hairbreadth ’scapes i’ th’ imminent deadly breach,
Of being taken by the insolent foe
And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence,
And portance in my traveler’s history,
Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven,
It was my hint to speak—such was my process—
And of the cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders. These things to hear
Would Desdemona seriously incline.
But still the house affairs would draw her thence,
Which ever as she could with haste dispatch
She’d come again, and with a greedy ear
Devour up my discourse. Which I, observing,
Took once a pliant hour, and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not ⟨⟩I did consent,
And often did beguile her of her tears
 When I did speak of some distressful stroke
 That my youth suffered. My story being done,
 She gave me for my pains a world of ⟨sighs.⟩
 She swore, in faith, ’twas strange, ’twas passing strange,
’Twas pitiful, ’twas wondrous pitiful.
She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished
That heaven had made her such a man. She thanked me,
And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her,
I should but teach him how to tell my story,
And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake.
She loved me for the dangers I had passed,
And I loved her that she did pity them.
This only is the witchcraft I have used.
Here comes the lady. Let her witness it.
                                                                                                              Enter Desdemona, Iago, Attendants
_____I think this tale would win my daughter, too.

Othello beginning. Act 1 scene 3 Othello is talking about the high stroies that he told to win over Desdemona and it is actually very sweet. The Duke says this at the bottom when brabatino is angry about Othello

Let him do his spite.
My services which I have done the signiory
Shall out-tongue his complaints. ’Tis yet to know
(Which, when I know that boasting is an honor,
I shall promulgate) I fetch my life and being
From men of royal siege, and my demerits
May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune
As this that I have reached. For know, Iago,
But that I love the gentle Desdemona,
I would not my unhousèd free condition
Put into circumscription and confine
For the sea’s worth. But look, what lights come yond?

Othello Act 1.2 Othello commits to his love for Desdemona about brabatiano trying to be his friend

The weight of this sad time we must obey,
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most; we that are young
Shall never see so much nor live so long.

Edgar in Lear 5,3… this is the last line of the play and he is speaking of how those who die do not get to experience the fruits, life aint fair

You lords and noble friends, know our intent:
What comfort to this great decay may come
Shall be applied. For us, we will resign,
During the life of this old Majesty,
To him our absolute power; you to your rights,
With boot and such addition as your Honors
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings. O, see, see!

5.3 Lear… Albany is saying that he is a survivor and he grew as a person… he feels guilt for all of the deaths

No, no, no, no. Come, let’s away to prison.
We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ 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 ’s 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 th’ moon.

Lear Act 5 scene 3… he’s on his final legs and he’s saying that he is sort of content with death as long as he can be with Cordelia his beloved daughter… moving scene

And so I am; I am.

Act 4 scene 7 Lear:: Coredilia is bawling about how much she loves her father.

Therefore, thou happy father,
Think that the clearest gods, who make them honors
Of men’s impossibilities, have preserved thee.

4… 6 Lear… Edgar is saying how thankful he is for his dad Gloucster

We’ll no more meet, no more see one another.
But yet thou art my flesh, my blood, my daughter,
Or, rather, a disease that’s in my flesh,
Which I must needs call mine. Thou art a boil,
A plague-sore or embossèd carbuncle
In my corrupted blood. But I’ll not chide thee.
Let shame come when it will; I do not call it.
I do not bid the thunder-bearer shoot,
Nor tell tales of thee to high-judging Jove.
Mend when thou canst. Be better at thy leisure.
I can be patient. I can stay with Regan,
I and my hundred knights.

Lear in Lear, Act 2 scene 4… he is so mad at Goneril for being such a dick to him

I heard myself proclaimed,
And by the happy hollow of a tree
Escaped the hunt. No port is free; no place
That guard and most unusual vigilance
Does not attend my taking. Whiles I may ’scape,
I will preserve myself, and am bethought
To take the basest and most poorest shape
That ever penury in contempt of man
Brought near to beast. My face I’ll grime with filth,
Blanket my loins, elf all my hairs in knots,
And with presented nakedness outface
The winds and persecutions of the sky.
The country gives me proof and precedent
Of Bedlam beggars who with roaring voices
Strike in their numbed and mortifièd arms
Pins, wooden pricks, nails, sprigs of rosemary,
And, with this horrible object, from low farms,
Poor pelting villages, sheepcotes, and mills,
Sometime with lunatic bans, sometime with prayers,
Enforce their charity. “Poor Turlygod! Poor Tom!”
That’s something yet. “Edgar” I nothing am.

Edgar in Lear… 2.3 he is turning into Poor tom after his death sentence from I forget who… Kent remains onstage

This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune (often the surfeits of our own behavior) we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and stars, as if we were villains on necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on. An admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition on the charge of a star! My father compounded with my mother under the Dragon’s tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major, so that it follows I am rough and lecherous. Fut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in the firmament twinkled on my bastardizing

Edmund in Lear…. 1,2 he is talking about how bastards are always on the short end of the stick and he is very jealous of his brother…

Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, loved me.
I return those duties back as are right fit:
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,
To love my father all.

Coredelia in Act 1, scene 1 of Lear…. she is almost characterized as masculine for her honesty and for her desire not to just suck up to him

Meantime we shall express our darker purpose.—
Give me the map there. He is handed a map.
Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom, and ’tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age,
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburdened crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now.
The two great princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love,
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn
And here are to be answered. Tell me, my daughters—
Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state—
Which of you shall we say doth love us most,
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge

Lear in lear… dividing his kingdom which leads to his downfall

I understand the business; I hear it. To have an open ear, a quick eye, and a nimble hand is necessary for a cutpurse; a good nose is requisite also, to smell out work for th’ other senses. I see this is the time that the unjust man doth thrive. What an exchange had this been without boot! What a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do this year connive at us, and we may do anything extempore. The Prince himself is about a piece of iniquity, stealing away from his father with his clog at his If I thought it were a piece of honesty to acquaint the King withal, I would not do ’t. I hold it the more knavery to conceal it, and therein am I constant to my profession.

The winters tale… Autolycus in 4.4 he is talking about the moral decay of the world and florizels secret relationship with Perdita

_______Still methinks
There is an air comes from her. What fine chisel
Could ever yet cut breath? Let no man mock me,
For I will kiss her.
_______ Good my lord, forbear.
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet.
You’ll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
With oily painting.

The Winter’s Tale;

5.3

Leontes wants to kiss the statue and Paulina is confused I guess… she wants to preserve the purity of Paulina

_______ . . . . At your request,
My father will grant precious things as trifles.
________
Would he do so, I’d beg your precious mistress,
Which he counts but a trifle.
_________ Sir, my liege,
Your eye hath too much youth in ’t. Not a month
’Fore your queen died, she was more worth such gazes
Than what you look on now.
_________ I thought of he

TWT 5.1

Sir, spare your threats.
The bug which you would fright me with I seek.
 To me can life be no commodity.
 The crown and comfort of my life, your favor,
 I do give lost, for I do feel it gone,
 But know not how it went. My second joy
 And first fruits of my body, from his presence
 I am barred like one infectious. My third comfort,
 Starred most unluckily, is from my breast,
 The innocent milk in it most innocent mouth,
 Haled out to murder; myself on every post
 Proclaimed a strumpet; with immodest hatred
 The childbed privilege denied, which longs
 To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried
 Here to this place, i’ th’ open air, before
 I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege,
 Tell me what blessings I have here alive,
 That I should fear to die?

3.2 Hermoine is speaking taking about how leontes wants to get rid of her or worse

Nine changes of the wat’ry star hath been
The shepherd’s note since we have left our throne
Without a burden.

TWT beginning intro to the play

We were as twinned lambs that did frisk I’ th’sun,
And bleat the one at th’other. What we changed
Was innocence for innocence; we knew not
The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dreamed
That any did.  Had we pursued that life,
And our weak spirits ne’er been higher reared
With stronger blood, we should have answered heaven
Boldly “Not guilty,” the imposition cleared
Hereditary ours.

TWT 1.1 or 1.2… spoken by polixenes about his friendshio to leontes

Let me pass
The same I am ere ancient’st order was
Or what is now received. I witness to
The times that brought them in; so shall I do
To th’freshest things now reigning, and make stale
The glistering of this present as any tale
Now seems to it. Your patience this allowing,
I turn my glass, and give my scene such growing
As you had slept between; Leontes leaving—
Th’effects of his fond jealousies so grieving
That he shuts up himself—imagine me
Gentle spectators, that I now may be
In fair Bohemia.

4.1 time is summarizing what has happened in the 16 years…

What you do
Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
I’d have you do it ever. When you sing,
I’d have you buy and sell so, so give alms,
Pray so, and for the ord’ring your affairs,
To sing them too. When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o’ th’ sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that, move still, still so,
And own no other function. Each your doing,
So singular in each particular,
Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.

Florizel in 4.4 speaking to Perdita…. he loves her and blah blah blah

It is yours,
And, might we lay th’ old proverb to your charge,
So like you ’tis the worse.—Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father—eye, nose, lip,
The trick of ’s frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, his smiles,
The very mold and frame of hand, nail, finger.
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
So like to him that got it, if thou hast
The ordering of the mind too, ’mongst all colors
No yellow in ’t, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband’

Paulina in 2.3 TWT… she is defending Paulina from leontes

Thou want’st a rough pash and the shoots that I have
To be full like me; yet they say we are
Almost as like as eggs. Women say so,
That will say anything. But were they false
As o’erdyed blacks, as wind, as waters, false
As dice are to be wished by one that fixes
No bourn ’twixt his and mine, yet were it true
To say this boy were like me.

TWT 1.2 Leontes is talking about his son and how he is not actually related to florizel …. it’s very fucked

O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomi
Over men’s noses as they lie asleep.
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs,
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
Her traces of the smallest spider web,
Her collars of the moonshine’s wat’ry beams,
Her whip of cricket’s bone, the lash of film,
Her wagoner a small gray-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid.
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;
On courtiers’ knees, that dream on cur’sies straight;
O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;
O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues
Because their ⌜breaths⌝ with sweetmeats tainted are. 
Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit.
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail,
Tickling a parson’s nose as he lies asleep;
Then he dreams of another benefice.
Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep, and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the ⌜elflocks⌝ in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she—

Mercutio in R and J…. Act 1 scene 4… Mercutio talking about Queen Mab and the fairies… He is making fun of romeo a little bit for being such a love bird but also is still his friend…

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague?  It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face nor any other part
Belonging to a man.  O, be some other name!
That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet.
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title.  Romeo, doff thy name;
And for thy name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

Juliet Capulet in R and J Act 2 scene 2…. Pre

_________Here comes Romeo! here comes Romeo!

_________Without his roe, like a dried herring.  O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in.  Laura, to his lady, was a kitchen wench (marry, she had a better love to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose.  Signor Romeo,  bonjour! There's a French salutation to your French slop.  You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

Mercutio in R and J Act 2 scene 4… context is that Romeo has just been married technically to Juliet so Mercutio makes all these fucked jokes lol…

Or, if I live, is it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place—
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle
Where for this many hundred years the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are packed;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies fest’ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort—
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad—
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environèd with all these hideous fears,
And madly play with my forefathers’ joints,
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud,
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone,
As with a club, dash out my desp’rate brains?
O look, methinks I see my cousin’s ghost
Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body
Upon a rapier’s point! Stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Here’s drink.
I drink to thee.

Juliet in R and J… Act 4 scene 3… Juliet is about to drink the poison.