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Shakespeare quotes on nightSave that my soul's imaginary sight Presents thy shadow to my sightless view, Which like a jewel (hung in ghastly night) Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new 28 How can I then return in happy plight Source: THE SONNETS Then thou whose shadow shadows doth make bright How would thy shadow's form, form happy show, To the clear day with thy much clearer light, When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so! How would (I say) mine eyes be blessed made, By looking on thee in the living day, When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade, Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay! All days are nights to see till I see thee, And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me For if it see the rud'st or gentlest sight, The most sweet favour or deformed'st creature, The mountain, or the sea, the day, or night For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night Good fortune and the favour of the King Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be perform'd to-night When his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night But, O strange men! That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night Call to me All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; Let's mock the midnight bell Ho, ho, ho! Now the witch take me if I meant it thus! Grace grow where those drops fall! My hearty friends, You take me in too dolorous a sense; For I spake to you for your comfort, did desire you To burn this night with torches Now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and yet was not the knight forsworn No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow Go hie thee presently post to the road; An if the wind blow any way from shore, I will not harbour in this town to-night Speak briefly, then, For we are peremptory to dispatch This viperous traitor; to eject him hence Were but one danger, and to keep him here Our certain death; therefore it is decreed He dies to-night Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night It was thy master's; shrew me, If I would lose it for a revenue Of any king's in Europe! I do think I saw't this morning; confident I am Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it By yond bush? Pray, how far thither? 'Ods pittikins! can it be six mile yet? I have gone all night Sit down awhile, And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night is night, and time is time They are here about the court, And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him O, throw away the worser part of it, And live the purer with the other half, Good night- but go not to my uncle's bed Indeed you come near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go by the moon And the seven stars, and not by Phoebus, he, that wand'ring knight so fair I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this present this twelve o'clock at midnight I look'd 'a should have sent me two and twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me security Your day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded over your night's exploit on Gadshill 'A came ever in the rearward of the fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutch'd huswifes that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his fancies or his good-nights Do you think me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility; I have found'red nine score and odd posts; and here, travel tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colville of the Dale,a most furious knight and valorous enemy Exeunt all but the PRINCE Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow? O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now! Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet As he whose brow with homely biggen bound Snores out the watch of night My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland Upon his royal face there is no note How dread an army hath enrounded him; Nor doth he dedicate one jot of colour Unto the weary and all-watched night; But freshly looks, and over-bears attaint With cheerful semblance and sweet majesty; That every wretch, pining and pale before, Beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks; A largess universal, like the sun, His liberal eye doth give to every one, Thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all Behold, as may unworthiness define, A little touch of Harry in the night This note doth tell me of ten thousand French That in the field lie slain; of princes in this number, And nobles bearing banners, there lie dead One hundred twenty-six; added to these, Of knights, esquires, and gallant gentlemen, Eight thousand and four hundred; of the which Five hundred were but yesterday dubb'd knights Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; For every drop of blood was drawn from him There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night Myself, as far as I could well discern For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, Am sure I scar'd the Dauphin and his trull, When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves That could not live asunder day or night this brawl to-day, Grown to this faction in the Temple Garden, Shall send between the Red Rose and the White A thousand souls to death and deadly night Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss, Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood-yea or no To say the truth, this fact was infamous And ill beseeming any common man, Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts! And may that thought, when I imagine ill Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, Be my last breathing in this mortal world! My troublous dreams this night doth make me sad Who's within there, ho? Enter a serving-man Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick To sup with me to-morrow night So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss He were created knight for his good service Fie! charity, for shame! Speak not in spite, For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light, What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; Those will I muster up, and thou, son Clarence, Shalt stir up in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, The knights and gentlemen to come with thee Brave followers, yonder stands the thorny wood Which, by the heavens' assistance and your strength, Must by the roots be hewn up yet ere night Come, good Sir Thomas, We shall be late else; which I would not be, For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford, This night to be comptrollers Your faithful subject I, a gentleman Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son, As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge- A soldier by the honour-giving hand Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day; In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night and watch with you Farewell, good Messala; Good night, Titinius; noble, noble Cassius, Good night and good repose O murtherous slumber, Layest thou thy leaden mace upon my boy That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good night If thou dost nod, thou break'st thy instrument; I'll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night The ghost of Caesar hath appear'd to me Two several times by night; at Sardis once, And this last night here in Philippi fields I have been with your father, and given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan his Duchess will be here with him this night What a brazen-fac'd varlet art thou, to deny thou knowest me! Is it two days ago since I beat thee and tripp'd up thy heels before the King? [Draws his sword.] Draw, you rogue! for, though it be night, yet the moon shines Mend when thou canst; be better at thy leisure; I can be patient, I can stay with Regan, I and my hundred knights Good nuncle, in, and ask thy daughters blessing! Here's a night pities nether wise men nor fools An chud ha' bin zwagger'd out of my life, 'twould not ha' bin zo long as 'tis by a vortnight Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night In wisdom I should ask thy name; But since thy outside looks so fair and warlike, And that thy tongue some say of breeding breathes, What safe and nicely I might well delay By rule of knighthood, I disdain and spurn Peace! The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion; A man so breathed that certain he would fight ye, From morn till night out of his pavilion 'Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo'- O word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear! WINTER When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good night But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly Come on, Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood; Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave; and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the Prince his master will be here to-night Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew, to sup to-night with my new master, the Christian I am right loath to go; There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise- in such a night, Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me They are all couch'd in a pit hard by Heme's oak, with obscur'd lights; which, at the very instant of Falstaff's and our meeting, they will at once display to the night The several chairs of order look you scour With juice of balm and every precious flower; Each fair instalment, coat, and sev'ral crest, With loyal blazon, evermore be blest! And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing, Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring; Th' expressure that it bears, green let it be, More fertile-fresh than all the field to see; And 'Honi soit qui mal y pense' write In em'rald tufts, flow'rs purple, blue and white; Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery, Buckled below fair knighthood's bending knee Sir John, To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word; For he, to-night, shall lie with Mistress Ford Farewell, sweet playfellow; pray thou for us, And good luck grant thee thy Demetrius! Keep word, Lysander; we must starve our sight From lovers' food till morrow deep midnight Here is the scroll of every man's name which is thought fit, through all Athens, to play in our interlude before the Duke and the Duchess on his wedding-day at night I grant you, friends, if you should fright the ladies out of their wits, they would have no more discretion but to hang us; but I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied! But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy Lie further off, in human modesty; Such separation as may well be said Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid, So far be distant; and good night, sweet friend Damned spirits all That in cross-ways and floods have burial, Already to their wormy beds are gone, For fear lest day should look their shames upon; They wilfully themselves exil'd from light, And must for aye consort with black-brow'd night He'll but break a comparison or two on me; which peradventure, not marked or not laugh'd at, strikes him into melancholy; and then there's a partridge wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night I pray you watch about Signior Leonato's door; for the wedding being there tomorrow, there is a great coil to-night Two of them did, the Prince and Claudio; but the devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly by his oaths, which first possess'd them, partly by the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly by my villany, which did confirm any slander that Don John had made, away went Claudio enrag'd; swore he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning at the temple, and there, before the whole congregation, shame her with what he saw o'ernight and send her home again without a husband 'True,' said she, 'a fine little one.' 'No,' said I, 'a great wit.' 'Right,' says she, 'a great gross one.' 'Nay,' said I, 'a good wit.' 'Just,' said she, 'it hurts nobody.' 'Nay,' said I, 'the gentleman is wise.' 'Certain,' said she, a wise gentleman.' 'Nay,' said I, 'he hath the tongues.' 'That I believe' said she, 'for he swore a thing to me on Monday night which he forswore on Tuesday morning I cannot bid you bid my daughter live- That were impossible; but I pray you both, Possess the people in Messina here How innocent she died; and if your love Can labour aught in sad invention, Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb, And sing it to her bones--sing it to-night [To Brabantio.] I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts A se'nnight's speed What's the matter, That you unlace your reputation thus, And spend your rich opinion for the name Of a night-brawler? Give me answer to it Why then tomorrow night, or Tuesday morn, On Tuesday noon, or night, on Wednesday morn Then thus I turn me from my countrv's light, To dwell in solemn shades of endless night So, fare you well; Unless you please to enter in the castle, And there repose you for this night Discharge my followers; let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king! For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing I say thou liest, And will maintain what thou hast said is false In thy heart-blood, through being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword O, then began the tempest to my soul! I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood With that sour ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning and the noontide night I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds More than the infant that is born to-night Why grow the branches when the root is gone? Why wither not the leaves that want their sap? If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, That our swift-winged souls may catch the King's, Or like obedient subjects follow him To his new kingdom of ne'er-changing night The son of Clarence have I pent up close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom, And Anne my wife hath bid this world good night Send out a pursuivant-at-arms To Stanley's regiment; bid him bring his power Before sunrising, lest his son George fall Into the blind cave of eternal night Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the farthest East bean to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight And makes himself an artificial night What say you? Can you love the gentleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; A villain, that is hither come in spite To scorn at our solemnity this night O, Romeo, that she were, O that she were An open et cetera, thou a pop'rin pear! Romeo, good night What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face; Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow Therefore thy earliness doth me assure Thou art uprous'd with some distemp'rature; Or if not so, then here I hit it right- Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night Within this hour my man shall be with thee And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair, Which to the high topgallant of my joy Must be my convoy in the secret night I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; But you shall bear the burthen soon at night Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging! Such a wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the West And bring in cloudy night immediately Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night Go, you cot-quean, go, Get you to bed! Faith, you'll be sick to-morrow For this night's watching What cursed foot wanders this way to-night To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? What, with a torch? Muffle me, night, awhile Wilt thou have music? Hark! Apollo plays, [Music] And twenty caged nightingales do sing Say that she rail; why, then I'll tell her plain She sings as sweetly as a nightingale As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust, to take away The edge of that day's celebration, When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd Or Night kept chain'd below The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe; Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring that lightens all this hole, Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, And shows the ragged entrails of this pit; So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus When he by night lay bath'd in maiden blood I constantly believe- Or rather call my thought a certain knowledge- My brother Troilus lodges there to-night 'Tis done like Hector; but securely done, A little proudly, and great deal misprizing The knight oppos'd This Ajax is half made of Hector's blood; In love whereof half Hector stays at home; Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to seek This blended knight, half Troyan and half Greek Dost thou entreat me, Hector? To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; To-night all friends Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my tent; This night in banqueting must all be spent Go in, and cheer the town; we'll forth, and fight, Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at night Fellow, commend my service to her beauty; Tell her I have chastis'd the amorous Troyan, And am her knight by proof That quaffing and drinking will undo you; I heard my lady talk of it yesterday, and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer To be up after midnight and to go to bed then is early; so that to go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes 'Hold thy peace, thou knave' knight? I shall be constrain'd in't to call thee knave, knight To-day, my lord; and for three months before, No int'rim, not a minute's vacancy, Both day and night did we keep company And all those sayings will I overswear; And all those swearings keep as true in soul As doth that orbed continent the fire That severs day from night Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe, That no man hath recourse to her by night Therefore mark my counsel, Which must be ev'n as swiftly followed as I mean to utter it, or both yourself and me Cry lost, and so goodnight If therefore you dare trust my honesty, That lies enclosed in this trunk which you Shall bear along impawn'd, away to-night Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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