I hate him for he is a Christian; But more, for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
The expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and, till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel not to trust; Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted, and no sooner had, Past reason hated as a swallowed bait On purpose laid to make the taker mad; Mad in pursuit, and in possession so; Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme; A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe, Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream. All this the world well knows, yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.
I am a humble suitor to your virtues; For pity is the virtue of the law, And none but tyrants use it cruelly.
I must from this enchanting queen break off.
There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
Jaques. Have you a song, forester, for this purpose? 2nd Lord. Yes, sir. Jaques. Sing it. 'Tis no matter how it be in tune, so it make noise enough.
Jaques. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. Rosalind. Why then 'tis good to be a post.
Now have I done a good day's work.
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' the building.
Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.