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Shakespeare quotes on powerI am not an impostor, that proclaim Myself against the level of mine aim; But know I think, and think I know most sure, My art is not past power nor you past cure [To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take Source: ALLS WELL THAT ENDS WELL Enter a GENTLEMAN In happy time! This man may help me to his Majesty's ear, If he would spend his power Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase, and taunt my faults With such full licence as both truth and malice Have power to utter Would she had never given you leave to come! Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here- I have no power upon you; hers you are Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, And what thou think'st his very action speaks In every power that moves the Volsces have an army forth; against whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of our Roman power Howbeit, I thank you; I mean to stride your steed, and at all times To undercrest your good addition To th' fairness of my power Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! What should the people do with these bald tribunes, On whom depending, their obedience fails To the greater bench? In a rebellion, When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, Then were they chosen; in a better hour Let what is meet be said it must be meet, And throw their power i' th' dust You might have been enough the man you are With striving less to be so; lesser had been The thwartings of your dispositions, if You had not show'd them how ye were dispos'd, Ere they lack'd power to cross you Or say to them Thou art their soldier and, being bred in broils, Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, Source: THE TRAGEDY OF CORIOLANUS Assemble presently the people hither; And when they hear me say 'It shall be so I' th' right and strength o' th' commons' be it either For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them, If I say fine, cry 'Fine!'- if death, cry 'Death!' Insisting on the old prerogative And power i' th' truth o' th' cause Read it not, noble lords; But tell the traitor in the highest degree He hath abus'd your powers Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; My operant powers their functions leave to do If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence I learn'd in Worcester, as I rode along, He cannot draw his power this fourteen days Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too; but my powers are there already I well allow the occasion of our amis; But gladly would be better satisfied How, in our means, we should advance ourselves To look with forehead bold and big enough Upon the power and puissance of the King O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! The time was, father, that you broke your word, When you were more endear'd to it than now; When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, Threw many a northward look to see his father Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain Each several article herein redress'd, All members of our cause, both here and hence, That are insinewed to this action, Acquitted by a true substantial form, And present execution of our wills To us and to our purposes confin'd- We come within our awful banks again, And knit our powers to the arm of peace Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours; Be now the father, and propose a son; Hear your own dignity so much profan'd, See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd; And then imagine me taking your part And, in your power, soft silencing your son The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my live, and my living, and my uttermost power But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart Whom with my bare fists I would execute, If I now had him brought into my power My lord, my lord, the French have gather'd head The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, A holy prophetess new risen up, Is come with a great power to raise the siege [Drum sounds afar off] Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, And keep not back your powers in dalliance I advise you- And take it from a heart that wishes towards you Honour and plenteous safety-that you read The Cardinal's malice and his potency Together; to consider further, that What his high hatred would effect wants not A minister in his power These flags of France, that are advanced here Before the eye and prospect of your town, Have hither march'd to your endamagement; The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, And ready mounted are they to spit forth Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls; All preparation for a bloody siege And merciless proceeding by these French Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates; And but for our approach those sleeping stones That as a waist doth girdle you about By the compulsion of their ordinance By this time from their fixed beds of lime Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made For bloody power to rush upon your peace O, lawful let it be That I have room with Rome to curse awhile! Good father Cardinal, cry thou 'amen' To my keen curses; for without my wrong There is no tongue hath power to curse him right Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; But life, being weary of these worldly bars, Never lacks power to dismiss itself I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffer'd The only soil of his fair virtue's gloss, If virtue's gloss will stain with any soil, Is a sharp wit match'd with too blunt a will, Whose edge hath power to cut, whose will still wills It should none spare that come within his power When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumor Of many worthy fellows that were out, Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, For that I saw the tyrant's power afoot Exit an ATTENDANT What figure of us think you he will bear? For you must know we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply; Lent him our terror, dress'd him with our love, And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power to have a dispatch of complaints; and to deliver us from devices hereafter, which shall then have no power to stand against us Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither, If that the youth of my new int'rest here Have power to bid you welcome I have a wife who I protest I love; I would she were in heaven, so she could Entreat some power to change this currish Jew The reason is your spirits are attentive; For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood- If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music Say that thou overheard'st us; And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter--like favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it Ah, madam, 'tis too true; and that is worse, The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground? But then more 'why?'-why have they dar'd to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war And ostentation of despised arms? Com'st thou because the anointed King is hence? Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind, And in my loyal bosom lies his power Fear not, my lord; that Power that made you king Hath power to keep you king in spite of all He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, Grows strong and great in substance and in power Morton is fled to Richmond; And Buckingham, back'd with the hardy Welshmen, Is in the field, and still his power increaseth In Kent, my liege, the Guilfords are in arms; And every hour more competitors Flock to the rebels, and their power grows strong I'll draw the form and model of our battle, Limit each leader to his several charge, And part in just proportion our small power Unless I have mista'en his colours much- Which well I am assur'd I have not done- His regiment lies half a mile at least South from the mighty power of the King Come, bustle, bustle; caparison my horse; Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power O, how may I Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power This mis-shapen knave- His mother was a witch, and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power [Aside] What will this come to? He commands us to provide and give great gifts, And all out of an empty coffer; Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, To show him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good Th' imaginary relish is so sweet That it enchants my sense; what will it be When that the wat'ry palate tastes indeed Love's thrice-repured nectar? Death, I fear me; Swooning destruction; or some joy too fine, Too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness, For the capacity of my ruder powers No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st Have some malignant power upon my life If you can behold it, I'll make the statue move indeed, descend, And take you by the hand, but then you'll think- Which I protest against- I am assisted By wicked powers Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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