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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet

 Arm, fight, and conquer, for fair England's sake! We learn no other but the confident tyrant May be the devil: and the devil hath power 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: Giving to you no further personal power 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me Clean over-blown, themselves, the conquerors Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. 
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
 
Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
 As my great power thereof may give thee sense, 
Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?
 But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear, Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd, Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, 
What does the tyrant?
 
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
 As my great power thereof may give thee sense, O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies 
  • Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,