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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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A bloody tyrant and a homicide;

 Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, Giving to you no further personal power Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, If all else fail, myself have power to die. You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; A bloody tyrant and a homicide; our power to account?--Yet who would have thought the old man to 
That excellent grand tyrant of the earth,
 Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;