Female Classical 2019 THE WINTER'S TALE by William Shakespeare, Act 3 Scene 2 HERMIONE: Sir, spare your threats: The bug which you would fright me with I seek. To me can life be no commodity: The crown and comfort of my life, your favour, I do give lost; for I do feel it gone, But know not how it went. My second joy And first-fruits of my body, from his presence I am barr d, like one infectious. My third comfort Starr d most unluckily, is from my breast, The innocent milk in its most innocent mouth, Haled out to murder: myself on every post Proclaimed a strumpet: with immodest hatred The child-bed privilege denied, which longs To women of all fashion; lastly, hurried Here to this place, i the open air, before I have got strength of limit. Now, my liege, Tell me what blessings I have here alive, That I should fear to die? Therefore proceed. But yet hear this: mistake me not; no life, I prize it not a straw, but for mine honour, Which I would free, if I shall be condemn d Upon surmises, all proofs sleeping else But what your jealousies awake, I tell you Tis rigour and not law. Your honours all, I do refer me to the oracle: Apollo be my judge!
HAMLET by William Shakespeare, Act 4 Scene 7 QUEEN GERTRUDE: There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead men s fingers call them: There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; As one incapable of her own distress. Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element: but long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull d the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE by William Shakespeare, Act 3 Scene 2 PORTIA: I pray you tarry. Pause a day or two Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong I lose your company. Therefore forbear a while. There s something tells me but it is not love I would not lose you; and you know yourself Hate counsels not in such a quality. But lest you should not understand me well And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought I would detain you here some month or two Before you venture for me. I could teach you How to choose right, but then I am forsworn. So will I never be; so may you miss me. But if you do, you ll make me wish a sin, That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, They have o erlooked me and divided me. One half of me is yours, the other half yours Mine own, I would say, but if mine, then yours, And so all yours. O, these naughty times Put bars between the owners and their rights, And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. I speak too long, but tis to piece the time, To eke it, and to draw it out in length To stay you from election.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT S DREAM by William Shakespeare, Act 1 Scene 2 HELENA: How happy some, o'er other some can be? Through Athens I am thought as fair as she. But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so: He will not know, what all, but he do know: And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes; So I, admiring of his qualities: Things base and vile, folding no quantity, Love can transpose to form and dignity, Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste: Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste. And therefore is Love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled. As waggish boys in game themselves forswear; So the boy Love is perjured everywhere. For ere Demetrius look'd on Hermia's eyne, He hail'd down oaths that he was only mine; And when this hail some heat from Hermia felt, So he dissolved, and showers of oaths did melt. I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight: Then to the wood will he to-morrow night Pursue her; and for this intelligence, If I have thanks, it is a dear expense: But herein mean I to enrich my pain, To have his sight thither and back again.
TWELFTH NIGHT, OR WHAT YOU WILL by William Shakespeare, Act 2 Scene 2 VIOLA: I left no ring with her. What means this lady? Fortune forbid my outside hath not charmed her. She made good view of me, indeed so much That straight methought her eyes had lost her tongue, For she did speak in starts, distractedly. She loves me, sure. The cunning of her passion Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord s ring! Why, he sent her none. I am the man. If it be so as tis Poor lady, she were better love a dream! Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. How easy is it for the proper false In women s waxen hearts to set their forms! Alas, our fraility is the cause, not we, For such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge? My master loves her dearly, And I, poor monster, fond as much on him, And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this? As I am man, My state is desperate for my master s love. As I am woman, now, alas the day, What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe! O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t untie.
ROMEO AND JULIET by William Shakespeare Act 3 Scene 2 JULIET: Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging! such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the West And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods. Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle till strange love grown bold, Think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night. Come, Romeo. Come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night. Come, loving black-brow'd night. Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. O I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possessed it; and though I am sold, Not yet enjoyed.
HENRY VI PART 3 by William Shakespeare, Act 1 Scene 1 QUEEN MARGARET: Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; And given unto the house of York such head As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, What is it, but to make thy sepulchre And creep into it far before thy time? Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; The duke is made protector of the realm; And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds The trembling lamb environed with wolves. Had I been there, which am a silly woman, The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes Before I would have granted to that act. But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, Until that act of parliament be repeal'd Whereby my son is disinherited. The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace And utter ruin of the house of York. Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; Our army is ready; come, we'll after them.