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Shakespeare quotes on sleepThus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter, In sleep a king, but waking no such matter 154 The little Love-god lying once asleep, Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand, Whilst many nymphs that vowed chaste Source: THE SONNETS But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust; Our own love waking cries to see what's done, While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon Sir, I will eat no meat; I'll not drink, sir; If idle talk will once be necessary, I'll not sleep neither I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours, excepted I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are dispos'd to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou are inclin'd to sleep I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows, and is gone forth- to sleep Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity, A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, Lay sleeping on his back From fairies and the tempters of the night Guard me, beseech ye! [Sleeps How? a page? Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead, rather; For nature doth abhor to make his bed With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep [Exeunt all but Hamlet.] How all occasions do inform against me And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape, In forms imaginary, th'unguided days And rotten times that you shall look upon When I am sleeping with my ancestors The seasons change their manners, as the year Had found some months asleep, and leapt them over But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee, And I should rob the deathsman of his fee, Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames, And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild, I would, false murd'rous coward, on thy knee Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st, That thou thyself was born in bastardy; And, after all this fearful homage done, Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell, Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men They say, in care of your most royal person, That if your Highness should intend to sleep And charge that no man should disturb your rest, In pain of your dislike or pain of death, Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict, Were there a serpent seen with forked tongue That slily glided towards your Majesty, It were but necessary you were wak'd, Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal Come on, my masters, each man take his stand; The King by this is set him down to sleep In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep or hearing die Y'are a gentleman Of mine own way; I know you wise, religious; And, let me tell you, it will ne'er be well- 'Twill not, Sir Thomas Lovell, take't of me- Till Cranmer, Cromwell, her two hands, and she, Sleep in their graves Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber; Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, Which busy care draws in the brains of men; Therefore thou sleep'st so sound Bid them come forth and hear me, Or at their chamber door I'll beat the drum Till it cry sleep to death The man that makes his toe What he his heart should make Shall of a corn cry woe, And turn his sleep to wake I stood and heard them, But they did say their prayers and address'd them Again to sleep Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the house; "Glamis hath murther'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him and disheartens him; makes him stand to and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and giving him the lie, leaves him thou shalt not live, That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, And sleep in spite of thunder Since his Majesty went into the field, have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep Has Page any brains? Hath he any eyes? Hath he any thinking? Sure, they sleep; he hath no use of them What wicked and dissembling glass of mine Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne? But who is here? Lysander! on the ground! Dead, or asleep? I see no blood, no wound Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs, And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed and to arise; And pluck the wings from painted butterflies, To fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me; I have an exposition of sleep come upon me Titania, music call; and strike more dead Than common sleep of all these five the sense Come, my Queen, take hands with me, [Music] And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be My next is 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life, stol'n hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet watchman, for I cannot see how sleeping should offend I lay with Cassio lately And, being troubled with a raging tooth, I could not sleep Ah, Keeper, Keeper, I have done these things That now give evidence against my soul For Edward's sake, and see how he requites me! O God! If my deep prayers cannot appease Thee, But Thou wilt be aveng'd on my misdeeds, Yet execute Thy wrath in me alone; O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! KEEPER, I prithee sit by me awhile; My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep [To RICHMOND] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror! Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be King, Doth comfort thee in thy sleep [To RICHARD] Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife That never slept a quiet hour with thee Now fills thy sleep with perturbations Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two And sleeps again Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign Thou hast quarrell'd with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it; That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet Take thou this vial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off; When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse Shall keep his native progress, but surcease; No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall Like death when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of supple government, Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death; And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours, And then awake as from a pleasant sleep Am I a lord and have I such a lady? Or do I dream? Or have I dream'd till now? I do not sleep What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep Although this lord of weak remembrance, this Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded- For he's a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade-the King his son's alive, 'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd As he that sleeps here swims By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! When's god's asleep he'll rob his bottle We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep [They open the tomb] There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars [Sound trumpets and lay the coffin in the tomb] In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, Here grow no damned drugs, here are no storms, No noise, but silence and eternal sleep And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, You that survive and you that sleep in fame My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad When everything does make a gleeful boast? The birds chant melody on every bush; The snakes lie rolled in the cheerful sun; The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground; Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, And while the babbling echo mocks the hounds, Replying shrilly to the well-tun'd horns, As if a double hunt were heard at once, Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise; And- after conflict such as was suppos'd The wand'ring prince and Dido once enjoyed, When with a happy storm they were surpris'd, And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave- We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber, Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds Be unto us as is a nurse's song Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep Come on, my lords, the better foot before; Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit Where I espied the panther fast asleep And mine, I promise you; were it not for shame, Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile The dam will wake; and if she wind ye once, She's with the lion deeply still in league, And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back, And when he sleeps will she do what she list Sixty and nine that wore Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen, With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel Who marvels, then, when Helenus beholds A Grecian and his sword, if he do set The very wings of reason to his heels And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, Or like a star disorb'd? Nay, if we talk of reason, Let's shut our gates and sleep [Speaking as SIR TOPAS] Malvolio, thy wits the heavens restore! Endeavour thyself to sleep, and leave thy vain bibble-babble I Do come with words as medicinal as true, Honest as either, to purge him of that humour That presses him from sleep Gallows and knock are too powerful on the highway; beating and hanging are terrors to me; for the life to come, I sleep out the thought of it Like an old tale still, which will have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep and not an ear open 'So on the tip of his subduing tongue All kind of arguments and question deep, All replication prompt, and reason strong, For his advantage still did wake and sleep Quotes for: Shakespeare Quotes
Source: Project Gutenburg Texts
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