Cymbeline Quotes

Hang there like a fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!

Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke: Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finished joy and moan; All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownéd be thy grave!

Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.

Kneel not to me. The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you. Live, And deal with others better.

Meet the time as it seeks us. «Encontremos el tiempo como nos busca». The Tragedy of Cymbeline, William Shakespeare

The pow'r I have on you is to spare you / The malice towards you, to forgive you. Posthumus

I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early.

An open page displays lines from Cymbeline, a song of death, a lament: “‘Fear no more the heat o’ the sun/Nor the furious winter’s rages.

Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.

our cage We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird, And sing our bondage freely.

Pardon's the word to all.

The game is up

thither write, my queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send Though ink be made of gall.

Meet the time as it seeks us. Treed de tijd tegemoet zoals zij ons zoekt. (The tragedy of Cymbeline, William Shakespeare)

Such stuff as madmen tongue.

The sweat of industry would dry and die, But for the end it works to.

It may take a decade or two before the extent of Shakespeare's collaboration passes from the graduate seminar to the undergraduate lecture, and finally to popular biography, by which time it will be one of those things about Shakespeare that we thought we knew all along. Right now, though, for those who teach the plays and write about his life, it hasn't been easy abandoning old habits of mind. I know that I am not alone in struggling to come to terms with how profoundly it alters one's sense of how Shakespeare wrote, especially toward the end of his career when he coauthored half of his last ten plays. For intermixed with five that he wrote alone, Antony and Cleopatra, Coriolanus, The Winter's Tale, Cymbeline, and The Tempest, are Timon of Athens (written with Thomas Middleton), Pericles (written with George Wilkins), and Henry the Eighth, the lost Cardenio, and The Two Noble Kinsmen (all written with John Fletcher).

What pleasure, sir, find we in life to lock it / From action and adventure?

Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

You may wear her in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds.

Stand, stand!...Nothing routs us but The villainy of our fears.

Society is no comfort To one not sociable. —William Shakespeare, Cymbeline, Act 4, Scene 2 Great

Jonathan Bate quotes a couplet from Cymbeline, “Golden lads and girls all must, / As chimney sweepers, come to dust,

Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.

Yüksektekiler, alçaktakiler mezarında birlikte çürürken tozları birbirinin aynıdır.

Altın da gümüş de boştur. Sahte tanrılara tapanların dışında herkes onlara aynı gözle bakar.

It is true that William Shakespeare used some learned parlance in his work, but he also employed imagery that clearly and ringingly reflected a rural background. Jonathan Bate quotes a couplet from Cymbeline, “Golden lads and girls all must, / As chimney sweepers, come to dust,” which takes on additional sense when one realizes that in Warwickshire in the sixteenth century a flowering dandelion was a golden lad, while one about to disperse its seeds was a chimney sweeper.

Julius explained that the palace rooms where they stood were called Wunderkammers, or wonder rooms. Souvenirs of nature, of travels across continents and seas; jewels and skulls. A show of wealth, intellect, power. The first room had rose-colored glass walls, with rubies and garnets and bloodred drapes of damask. Bowls of blush quartz; semiprecious stone roses running the spectrum of red down to pink, a hard, glittering garden. The vaulted ceiling, a feature of all the ten rooms Julius and Cymbeline visited, was a trompe l'oeil of a rosy sky at down, golden light edging the morning clouds. The next room was of sapphire and sea and sky; lapis lazuli, turquoise and gold and silver. A silver mermaid lounged on the edge of a lapis lazuli bowl fashioned in the shape of an ocean. Venus stood aloft on the waves draped in pearls. There were gold fish and diamond fish and faceted sterling silver starfish. Silvered mirrors edged in silvered mirror. There were opals and aquamarines and tanzanite and amethyst. Seaweed bloomed in shades of blue-green marble. The ceiling was a dome of endless, pale blue. A jungle room of mica and marble followed, with its rain forest of cats made from tiger's-eye, yellow topaz birds, tortoiseshell giraffes with stubby horns of spun gold. Carved clouds of smoky quartz hovered over a herd of obsidian and ivory zebras. Javelinas of spotted pony hide charged tiny, life-sized dik-diks with velvet hides, and dazzling diamond antlers mingled with miniature stuffed sable minks. Agate columns painted a medley of dark greens were strung with faceted ropes of green gold. A room of ivory: bone, teeth, skulls, and velvet. A room crowded with columns all sheathed in mirrors, reflecting world maps and globes and atlases inlaid with silver, platinum, and white gold; the rubies and diamonds that were sometimes set to mark the location of a city or a town of conquest resembled blood and tears. A room dominated by a fireplace large enough to hold several people, upholstered in velvets and silks the colors of flame. Snakes of gold with orange sapphire and yellow topaz eyes coiled around the room's columns. Statues of smiling black men in turbans offering trays of every gem imaginable-emerald, sapphire, ruby, topaz, diamond-stood at the entrance to a room upholstered in pistachio velvet, accented with malachite, called the Green Vault. Peridot wood nymphs attended to a Diana carved from a single pure crystal of quartz studded with tiny tourmalines. Jade tables, and jade lanterns. The royal jewels, blinding in their sparkling excess: crowns, tiaras, coronets, diadems, heavy ceremonial necklaces, rings, and bracelets that could span a forearm, surrounding the world's largest and most perfect green diamond. Above it all was a night sky of painted stars, with inlaid cut crystal set in a serious of constellations.

Ah, bu hayat yüksekteki birini memnun etmek için uğraşıp sonunda küçümsemeyle karşılaşanların hayatından daha soylu, bir rüşvet karşılığında hiçbir şey yapmayanların hayabndan daha zengin ve parası ödenmemiş ipek elbiseler içinde hışıırtılar çıkararak dolaşanların hayatından daha gurur vericidir.

1595, Richard Field, fellow-alumnus of the King Edward grammar school in Stratford-upon-Avon, printed The lives of the noble Grecians and Romanes, compared together by that grave learned philosopher and historiographer, Plutarke of Chaeronea: translated out of Greeke into French by James Amiot, abbot of Bellozane, Bishop of Auxerre, one of the Kings privie counsell, and great Amner of France, and out of French into English, by Thomas North. This was the book that got Shakespeare thinking seriously about politics: monarchy versus republicanism versus empire; the choices we make and their tragic consequences; the conflict between public duty and private desire. He absorbed classical thought, but was not enslaved to it. Shakespeare was a thinker who always made it new, adapted his source materials, and put his own spin on them. In the case of Plutarch, he feminized the very masculine Roman world. Brutus and Caesar are seen through the prism of their wives, Portia and Calpurnia; Coriolanus through his mother, Volumnia; Mark Antony through his lover, Cleopatra. Roman women were traditionally silent, confined to the domestic sphere. Cleopatra is the very antithesis of such a woman, while Volumnia is given the full force of that supreme Ciceronian skill, a persuasive rhetorical voice.40 Timon of Athens is alone and unhappy precisely because his obsession with money has cut him off from the love of, and for, women (the only females in Timon’s strange play are two prostitutes). Paradoxically, the very masculinity of Plutarch’s version of ancient history stimulated Shakespeare into demonstrating that women are more than the equal of men. Where most thinkers among his contemporaries took the traditional view of female inferiority, he again and again wrote comedies in which the girls are smarter than the boys—Beatrice in Much Ado about Nothing, Rosalind in As You Like It, Portia in The Merchant of Venice—and tragedies in which women exercise forceful authority for good or ill (Tamora, Cleopatra, Volumnia, and Cymbeline’s Queen in his imagined antiquity, but also Queen Margaret in his rendition of the Wars of the Roses).41

I. Serenity ‘Fear no more the heat o’ the sun’ By William Shakespeare (1564–1616) From ‘Cymbeline’, Act IV. Scene 2 FEAR no more the heat o’ the sun, Nor the furious winter’s rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages; Golden lads and girls all must, 5 As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o’ the great, Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: 10 The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; 15 Thou hast finish’d joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust. No exorciser harm thee! Nor no witchcraft charm thee! 20 Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have; And renownèd be thy grave!

To AFTEREYE  (A'FTEREYE)   v.a.[from after and eye.]To keep one in view; to follow in view. Thou shouldst have made himAs little as a crow, or less, ere leftTo aftereye him.Shakespeare’sCymbeline.

But an old friend of mine in New Hampshire…” The stress she put on the words “old friend” indicated that she was talking about a fellow witch. “They said that there were indications that some of the bears there might be manifestations.” Manifestations was Cymbeline-speak for the spirit or god of a locality. What my British colleague Peter Grant would call a genius loci—which is just a fancy way of saying “local spirit”.

The famed Cassibelan, who... Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright, And Britons strut with courage.

Mulmutius made our laws Who was the first of Britain which did put His brows within a golden crown and called Himself a king.

I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but To look upon him, till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle, Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from The smallness of a gnat to air, and then Have turn'd mine eye and wept.

I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater skill In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better.

Society is no comfort To one not sociable. —William Shakespeare, Cymbeline, Act 4, Scene 2

... he did not mean to fight on the Roman side against his own countrymen, but intended to join the army of Britain, and fight in the cause of the king who had banished him. He still believed Imogen false to him; yet the death of her he had so fondly loved, and by his own orders too (Pisiano having written him a letter to say he had obeyed his command, and that Imogen was dead) sat heavy on his heart, and therefore he returned to Britain, desiring either to be slain in battle, or to be put to death by Cymbeline for returning home from banishment.