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


This sudden stab of rancour I misdoubt;

 Come, Montague; for thou art early up, For she commanding all, obey'd of none. 
  • And fall something into a slower method,--
 Till of this flat a mountain you have made, Weep our sad bosoms empty. Come on; Congratulations! But I'll not trust thee. Besides, the king's name is a tower of strength, I' the shipman's card. I warrant, an I should live a thousand yeas, When well apparell'd April on the heel Were never orphans had so dear a loss! thou do for a father? Nurse? But where, to say the truth, I do not know. For 'tis the sport to have the enginer Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, A little water clears us of this deed: