To view a list of all the quizzes in this series, click the "Source" link or "In Plain" tag below the quiz.
Cast thy nighted colour off and let thine eye look like a friend.
In the morn and liquid dew of youth contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then: best safety lies in fear. Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Think yourself a baby that you have ta'en these tenders for true pay which are not sterling.
It likes us well.
We'll so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen, we may of their encounter frankly judge.
Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man as e'er my conversation coped withal.
Alas, how is't with you, that you do bend your eye on vacancy and with th'incorporal air do hold discourse?
I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb.
Now must your conscience my acquittance seal.
This project should have a back or second that might hold if this did blast in proof.
One woe doth tread upon another's heel, so fast they follow.
Long it could not be till that her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay to muddy death.
Her obsequies have been as far enlarged as we have warranty.
It goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Like the hectic in my blood he rages.
Methought I lay worse than the mutines in the bilboes.
Your bonnet to his right use: 'tis for the head.
I take him to be a soul of great article and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.
Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil free me so far in your most generous thoughts that I have shot my arrow o'er the house and hurt my brother.
You do but dally. I pray you pass with your best violence.
Absent thee from felicity awhile.
This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, what feast is toward in thine eternal cell that thou so many princes at a shot so bloodily hast struck?
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near and 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating.
Show Comments