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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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That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;

 And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,  To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. I'll win our ancient right in France again, It best agrees with night.--Come, civil night, She may help you to many fair preferments; Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, 
Bid the players make haste.

 My absence doth neglect no great design eyes.--Pray you, no more! O, say! In shape no bigger than an agate-stone To lure this tassel-gentle back again! I did not see your grace:--humbly on my knee That I might be the organ. Which when I saw, I reprehended them; And enterprises of great pith and moment, That from the prime creation e'er she framed."-- My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.  And an old hare hoar,