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Shakespeare Quotes from Henry VIII
97 passages from Dictionary of Shakespearian Quotations (1892), each filed under the passion it answers.
There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends: For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace Chalks súccessors their way; nor call'd upon For high feats done to the crown; neither allied To eminent assistants; but spider-like, Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note; The force of his own merit makes his way; A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys— filed under Ability, Innate
Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition; By that sin fell the angels; how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by't? Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee: Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.— filed under Advice
The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger.— filed under Ambition
God mend all.— filed under Amen
Tie leaden pounds to his heels. Stay, my lord! And let your reason with your choler question What 'tis you go about. To climb steep hills Requires slow pace at first. Anger is like A full hot horse, who, being allowed his way, Self mettle tires him.— filed under Anger
Be advis'd; Heat not a furnace for your foes so hot, That it do singe yourself: we may out-run, By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. Know you not, The fire that mounts the liquor till't run o'er, In seeming to augment it, wastes it. Be advis'd.— filed under Anger
O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world. K. J. iii. 4 I am about to weep; but, thinking that We are a queen, (or long have dream'd so) certain, The daughter of a king, my drops of tears I'll turn to sparks of fire.— filed under Anger
May he live! Longer than I have time to tell his years! Ever belov'd, and loving may his rule be! And when old Time shall lead him to his end, Goodness and he fill up one monument!— filed under Benediction
The heart's meteors tilting in the face. Now, if you can blush, and cry guilty, cardinal, You'll show a little honesty.— filed under Blushes
My learn'd lord cardinal,— filed under Charity
You must be seeing christenings! Do you look for ale— filed under Cihivalry
Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition; Win straying souls with modesty again,— filed under Cihivalry
I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities,— filed under Conscience
He counsels a divorce: a loss of her, That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; Of her, that loves him with that excellence That angels love good men with; even of her, That when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, Will bless the king.— filed under Constancy, Conjugal
Sir, call to mind, That I have been your wife in this obedience, Upward of twenty years, and have been bless'd With many children by you. If, in the course And process of this time, you can report, And prove it too, against mine honour aught, My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, Against your sacred person, in God's name, Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt Shut door upon me, and so give me up To the sharpest kind of justice.— filed under Constancy, Conjugal
Our content Is our best having.— filed under Content
Verily, I swear 'tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.— filed under Content
Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge,— filed under Difficulties Of
Do you take the court for Paris garden? you rude slaves,— filed under Ourage
There is more in it than fair visage.— filed under Danger
All good people, You that thus far have come to pity me, Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. I have this day receiv'd a traitor's judgment, And by that name must die; yet, heaven bear witness, And if I have a conscience let it sink me, Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! You few that lov'd me, And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, His noble friends, and fellows, whom to leave Is only bitter to him, only dying, Go with me like good angels, to my end; And as the long divorce of steel falls on me, Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name.— filed under Death
At last, with easy roads, he came to Leicester, Lodg'd in the abbey; where the reverend abbot, With all his convent, honourably receiv'd him; To whom he gave these words, - O, father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity! So went to bed: where eagerly his sickness Pursued him still; and, three days after this, About the hour of eight (which he himself Foretold should be his last,) full of repentance, Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, -and slept in peace.— filed under Drath
with a fine-baited delay. O, my good lord, that comfort comes too late; 'Tis like a pardon after execution; That gentle physic, given in time, had cur'd me; But now I'm past all comfort here, but prayers.— filed under Delay
Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope; no kindred weep for me, Almost no grave allow'd me;-like the lily, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, I'll hang my head and perish.— filed under Desolation
With modest paces Came to the altar, where she kneel'd, and saint-like Cast her fair eyes to heaven, and pray'd devoutly.— filed under Devotion
dignities. Nothing but death,— filed under Dignity
And the pretence for this Is nam'd, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths; Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze Allegiance in them; their curses now, Live where their prayers did; and it's come to pass, That tractable obedience is a slave To each incensed will.— filed under Discontent
You have many enemies, that know not Why they are so; but, like to village curs, Bark when their fellows do.— filed under Enemies
Would I had never trod this English earth, Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts!— filed under English, The
Of what coarse metal ye are moulded, envy. How eagerly ye follow my disgraces, As if it fed ye! and how sleek and wanton Ye appear in every thing may bring my ruin! Follow your envious courses, men of malice; You have Christian warrant for them, and, no doubt, In time will find their fit rewards.— filed under Envy
Men, that make Envy, and crooked malice, nourishment, Dare bite the best.— filed under Envy
'Tis a sufferance, panging As soul and body's severing.— filed under Fallen Greatness
Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening,-nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventur'd, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye; I feel my heart new opened: O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars and women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.— filed under Fallen Greatness
High events as these Strike those that make them: and their story is No less in pity, than his glory, which A.C.v.2 Brought them to be lamented. Nay then, farewell! I've touch'd the highest point of all my greatness! And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.— filed under Fallen Greatness
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, I humbly thank his grace; and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy, too much honour: O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden, Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven. H. VIII. iii. 2 My lord of Winchester, you are a little, By your good favour, too sharp; men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect, For what they have been: 'tis a cruelty, To load a falling man.— filed under Fallen Greatness
His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little.— filed under Fallen Greatness
What, amazed At my misfortunes? can thy spirit wonder, A great man should decline? Nay, an you weep, I am fallen indeed.— filed under Fallen Greatness
There was the weight that pull'd me down. O Cromwell. The king has gone beyond me, all my glories In that one woman I have lost for ever: No sun shall ever usher forth mine honours, Or gild again the noble troops that waited Upon my smiles. Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master.— filed under Fallen Greatness
O, my lord, Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue: His faults Le oren to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him. My heart weeps to see him So little of his great self.— filed under Fallen Greatness
Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues We write in water.— filed under Fame
After my death, I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.— filed under Fame
man. New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous, Nay, let them be unmanly, yet are follow'd. H. VIII. i. 3. These remnants Of fool and feather, that they got in France, With all their honourable points of ignorance— filed under Fa Siiion
Death! my lord, Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too. H.VIII.i— filed under Fashion
Sits in the wind against me. Though all the world should crack their duty to you, And throw it from their soul; though perils did Abound, as thick as thought could make them, and Appear in forms more horrid; yet my duty, As doth a rock against the chiding flood, Should the approach of this wild river break, And stand unshaken yours.— filed under Fidelity
Trim gallants, full of courtship and of state. Travell'd gallants That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors.— filed under Gallants
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and makes it break. M.iv.3 Like the lily, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish'd, I'll hang my head, and perish.— filed under Grief
Should be past grief. Spirits of peace, where are ye? Are ye all gone? And leave me here in wretchedness behind ye?— filed under Rief
The king has cur'd me, I humbly thank his grace: and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy, -too much honour.— filed under Honour
Your great goodness, out of holy pity,— filed under Hypocrisy
Pr'ythee lead me in: There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny; 'tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call my own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.— filed under Ingratitude
I had my trial; And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me A little happier than my wretched father: Yet thus far we are one in fortunes, Both Fell by our servants, by those men we lov'd most; A most unnatural and faithless service! Heaven has an end in all; yet, you that hear me, This from a dying man receive as certain: Where you are liberal of your loves, and counsels, Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again But where they mean to sink ye.— filed under Ingratitude
I do believe, Induc'd by potent circumstances, that You are mine enemy; and make my challenge, You shall not be my judge.— filed under Judgment, Justice
O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but serv'd my God, with half the zeal I serv'd the king, he would not in mine age— filed under Kings
Let us see:- Leave, gentle wax; and manners, blame us not. K. L. iv. 6. Read o'er this; And after, this; and then to breakfast, with What appetite you have.— filed under Letter
Men, that make Envy, and crooked malice nourishment, Dare bite the best.— filed under Malice
Press not a falling man too far; 'tis virtue: His faults lie open to the laws; let them, Not you, correct him.— filed under Mercy
As prone to mischief, as able to perform it.— filed under Mischief
Ha! what, so rank? Ah, ha! There's mischief in this man.— filed under Mischief
O, this is full of pity !-Sir, it calls, I fear, too many curses on their heads, That were the authors.— filed under Mischief
There's a trim rabble let in; Are all these Your faithful friends o' the suburbs?— filed under Mob
The choir, With all the choicest music of the kingdom, Together sung Te Deum.— filed under Music
O negligence, Fit for a fool to fall by!— filed under Neglect
Fool. Can'st tell, why one's nose stands i' the middle of his face? Lear.-No. Fool.-Why, to keep his eyes on either side his nose; that what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. K.L. i.5. There is a fellow somewhat near the door, he should be a brazier by his face, for o' my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose; all that stand about him are under the line, they need no other penance.— filed under Vight
If I am traduc'd by tongues, which neither know My faculties, nor person, yet will be The chronicles of my doing, -let me say, 'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake That virtue must go through. We must not stint Our necessary actions, in the fear To cope malicious censurers; which ever, As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow That is new trimm'd; but benefit no further Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, By sick interpreters, (once weak ones) is Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up For our best act. If we shall stand still, 8 In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, We should take root here where we sit, or sit State statues only.— filed under Office
To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me But whatso'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure Thou hast a cruel nature, and a bloody.— filed under Parasites
O, my lord, Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. The king shall have my service; but my prayers, For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.— filed under Farting
In her days, every man shall eat in safety, Under his own vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.— filed under Peace
Those that can pity, here May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; The subject will deserve it.— filed under Pity
It is a pity Would move a monster.— filed under Pity
Who cannot be crush'd with a plot!— filed under Plot
Plague of your policy! You sent me deputy for Ireland; Far from his succour, from the king, from all That might have mercy on the fault thou gav'st him, Whilst your great goodness, out of holy pity, Absolv'd him with an axe.— filed under Policy
Such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea in a stiff tempest, As loud, and to as many tunes: hats, cloaks, (Doublets, I think,) flew up; and had their faces Been loose, this day they had been lost.— filed under Popularity
We had need pray, And heartily, for our deliverance; Or this imperious man will work us all From princes into pages: all men's honours Lie in one lump before him, to be fashion'd Into what pitch he please.— filed under Power
I cannot tell What heaven hath given him, let some graver eye Pierce into that; but I can see his pride Peep through each part of him: Whence has he that? If not from hell, the devil is a niggard; Or has given all before, and he begins A new hell in himself.— filed under Pride
The rich stream of lords and ladies.— filed under Quality
She had all the royal makings of a queen; As holy oil, Edward Confessor's crown, The rod, and bird of peace, and all such emblems, Laid nobly on her.— filed under Queen
These are the youths that thunder at a play-house, and— filed under Rabble
The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger And lack of other means, in desperate manner Daring the event to th' teeth, are all in uproar, And danger serves among them.— filed under Sedition:
to con it. ''Tis well said again; And 'tis a kind of good deed, to say well:— filed under Speech
We must not rend our subjects from our laws, And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each ? A trembling contribution! Why, we take, From every tree, lop, bark, and part o' the timber; And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, The air willdrink the sap.— filed under Taxation
Sad unhelpful tears. I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forc'd me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman.— filed under Tears
Ask God for temperance, that's the appliance only Which your disease requires.— filed under Temperance
My lord, we have Stood here observing him; some strange commotion Is in his brain; he bites his lip, and starts; Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, Then lays his finger on his temple; straight, Springs out into fast gait, then, stops again, Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts His eye against the moon; in most strange postures We have seen him set himself.— filed under Thought
There is a mutiny in his mind.— filed under Thought
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?- And from this fellow?— filed under Threat
O, passing traitor, perjur'd, and unjust. H. VI, PT. III. v. 1. A giant traitor.— filed under Traitor
you have swam in a gondola. They have all new legs, and lame ones; one would take it, That never saw them pace before, the spavin, A spring-halt reign'd among them.— filed under Travelling
As far as I see, all the good our English Have got by the late voyage, is but merely A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; For when they hold them, you would swear directly Their very noses had been counsellors To Pepin, or Clotharius, they keep state so.— filed under Travelling
Types of travel.— filed under Travelling
Sigh'd truer breath.— filed under Ruth
How i' the name of thrift doth he rake this together?— filed under Wealth
Things done well, And with a care, exempt themselves from fear.— filed under Well Doing
That stops my wav in Padua. Go thy ways, Kate : That man i' the world, who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, For speaking false in that: Thou art, alone, (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, - Obeying in commanding, and thy parts Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,)— filed under Wife
You are meek and humble mouth'd; You sign your place, and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility: but your heart Is cramn'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours, Gone slightly o'er low steps; and now are mounted, Where powers are your retainers; and your words (Domestics to you) serve your will as't please Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, You tender more your person's honour, than Your high profession spiritual.— filed under Woe
He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes: one, that by suggestion Tied all the kingdom: simony was fair play; His own opinion was his law: I' the presence He would say untruths; and be ever double, Both in his words and meaning: He was never (But where he meant to ruin) pitful: His promises were, as he then was, mighty; But his performance, as he is now, nothing. Of his own body he was ill, and gave The clergy ill example.— filed under Woe
And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died,— filed under Olsey
I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world. K. J. iv. 3. 4- -'S REPORT. Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass: their virtues We write in water.— filed under World