Society and the World

Then, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!

Through tatter’d clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.

Through tatter’d clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all. Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks; Arm it in rags, a pigmy’s straw does pierce it.

Get thee glass eyes; And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.

Get thee glass eyes; And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.

Ay, every inch a king.

Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile; Filths savor but themselves.

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; They kill us for their sport.

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta’en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.

Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O! I have ta’en Too little care of this. Take physic, pomp; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.

Our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast’s.

Our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous: Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life is cheap as beast’s.

Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.

I want that glib and oily art To speak and purpose not.

Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow Upon the foul disease.

Mend your speech a little, Lest you may mar your fortunes.

Lear: So young, and so untender? Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true.

In Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban’d Turk Beat a Venetian and traduc’d the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog, And smote him thus.

Here is my journey’s end, here is my butt, And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.

An honorable murderer, if you will; For nought I did in hate, but all in honor.

An honorable murderer, if you will; For nought I did in hate, but all in honor.

Every way makes my gain.

O heaven! that such companions thou’dst unfold, And put in every honest hand a whip To lash the rascals naked through the world.

Take note, take note, O world! To be direct and honest is not safe.