(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.

(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
read more

In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious knavery does thou come
To start my quiet.

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more

Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the read more

In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest.

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

Gloriously drunk, obey the important call.

What does drunkenness accomplish? It discloses secrets, it
ratifies hopes, and urges even the unarmed to battle.
[Lat., read more

What does drunkenness accomplish? It discloses secrets, it
ratifies hopes, and urges even the unarmed to battle.
[Lat., Quid non ebrietas designat? Operta recludit;
Spes jubet esse ratas; in praelia trudit inermem.]

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more

. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns read more

Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years
The horrible Light-House of Hell!

I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
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I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.