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Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in read more
Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose,
Working so grossly in a natural cause
That admiration did not whoop at them;
But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in
Wonder to wait on treason and on murder;
And whatsoever cunning fiend it was
That wrought upon thee so preposterously
Hath got the voice in hell for excellence.
No wise man ever thought that a traitor should be trusted.
[Lat., Nemo unquam sapiens proditori credendum putavit.]
No wise man ever thought that a traitor should be trusted.
[Lat., Nemo unquam sapiens proditori credendum putavit.]
Cynicism is intellectual treason.
Cynicism is intellectual treason.
Thou art a traitor.
Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear
I will not read more
Thou art a traitor.
Off with his head! Now by Saint Paul I swear
I will not dine until I see the same.
The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.
Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case read more
Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.
Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
read more
Supposition all our lives shall be stuck full of eyes;
For treason is but trusted like the fox,
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherished and locked up,
Will have a wild trick of his ancestors.
Write on my gravestone: "Infidel, Traitor."--infidel to every church that compromises with wrong; traitor to every government that oppresses the read more
Write on my gravestone: "Infidel, Traitor."--infidel to every church that compromises with wrong; traitor to every government that oppresses the people.
Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, read more
Thou know'st, great son,
The end of war's uncertain, but this certain,
That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit
Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name
Whose repetition will be dogged with curses,
Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble,
But with his last attempt he wiped it out,
Destroyed his country; and his name remains
To th' ensuing age abhorred,' Speak to me son.
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honor,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' th' air,
And yet to change thy sulphur with a bolt
That should rive an oak.