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Steed threatens steed, in high and boastful neighs Piercing the night's dull ear and from the tents The armorers accomplishing the knights, With busy hammers closing rivets up, Give dreadful note of preparation.
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Giving
Dull
Tents
Notes
Threatens
Busy
Knights
Ears
Dreadful
Rivets
Horse
Hammers
Steed
High
Closing
Boastful
Night
Note
Piercing
Give
Preparation
Accomplishing
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Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might. Whoever lov'd that lov'd not at first sight.
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I have supped full with horrors.
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Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,- One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.
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There's nothing in this world can make me joy: Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
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Discuss unto me: art thou officer, Or art thou base, common, and popular?
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The cunning livery of hell.
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After life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done his worst. Nor steel nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing can touch him further.
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
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Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
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This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change, For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
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Gently to hear, kindly to judge.
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Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?
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I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
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Now the time is come, That France must veil her lofty-plumed crest, And let her head fall into England's lap.
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If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.
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Well, honor is the subject of my story.
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But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
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Hear the meaning within the word.
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Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk!
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Glendower: I can call the spirits from the vasty deep. Hotspur: Why, so can I, or so can any man But will they come, when you do call for them?
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