MEASURE FOR MEASURE.
Act i. Sc. 1.
Spirits are not finely touched
But to fine issues.
Act i. Sc. 5.
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.
Act ii. Sc. 2.
O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
Act ii. Sc. 2.
But man, proud man!
Drest in a little brief authority,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven
As make the angels weep.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
The miserable have no other medicine,
But only hope.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
The sense of death is most in apprehension;
And the poor beetle that we tread upon
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.
Act iii. Sc. 1.
Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;
To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot.
Act iv. Sc. 1.
Take, O take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn;
But my kisses bring again,
Seals of love, but sealed in vain.[1]