Measure for Measure

Elected him our absence to supply;
Lent him our terror, drest him with our love

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all!
Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall:
Some run from brakes of vice, and answer none;
And some condemned for a fault alone.

For every pelting petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder: nothing but thunder. —
Merciful heaven!
Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt,
Splitt’st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle; — but man, proud man!
Dress’d in a little brief authority, —
Most ignorant of what he’s most assured,
His glassy essence

Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know

O cunning enemy, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait thy hook

When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words;
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel: Heaven is my mouth,
As if I did but only chew his name;
And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception. The state whereon I studied
Is like a good thing, being often read,
Grown sear’d and tedious; yea, my gravity,
Wherein — let no man hear me — I take pride.
Could I with boot change for an idle plume,
Which the air beats for vain. O place! O form!
How often dost though with thy case, they habit,
Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls
To thy false seeming? Blood, thou still are blood:
Let’s write good angel on the devil’s horn,
‘Tis not the devil’s crest.

Say what you can, my false o’erweighs your true.

Thou art not thyself:
For though exist’st on many a thousand grains
That issue out of dust.

Yet in this life
Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.

If I must die,
I will encounter darkness as a bride,
And hug it in mine arms.

Canst thou believe thy living is a life?

That we were all, as some would seem to be
Free from our faults, as faults from seeming free!

What say’st thou to’t? Is the world as it was, man? Which is the way? Is it sad, and few words? Or how?

A scholar, a statesmen, and a solider.

O, what a man within him hide,
Though angel on the outward side!

O gravel heart!