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There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it, that will free your life, but fetter you till death.
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
Devilish
Life
Fetters
Till
Judge
Mercy
Judging
Fetter
Free
Implore
Death
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God mark thee to His grace! Thou was the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed. And might I live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
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If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!
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Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heaven.
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Though I am not naturally honest, I am sometimes so by chance.
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Justice always whirls in equal measure.
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Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
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O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!
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Keep thy friend Under thy own life's key.
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By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
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If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
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O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.
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I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
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To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars.
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How well he's read, to reason against reading!
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O the world is but a word were it all yours to give it in a breath, how quickly were it gone!
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The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea.
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If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.
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Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!
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Let me have war, say I it exceeds peace as far as day does night it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent.
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The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.
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