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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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You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain;

 From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, What says Lord Stanley? will he bring his power? To whom I will retail my conquest won, Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; And part in just proportion our small power.-- As my great power thereof may give thee sense, The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet May be the devil: and the devil hath power If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, What does the tyrant? A bloody tyrant and a homicide; But passion lends them power, time means, to meet, 
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should

 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: