The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes: The canker galls the infants of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclos’d: And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent.
’Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be But I am pigeon-liver’d, and lack gall To make oppression bitter; or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave’s offal: bloody, bawdy villain!
This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke’s name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon; ’tis a knavish piece of work: but what o’ that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not: let the gall’d jade wince; our withers are unwrung.
By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note of it, the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier he galls his kibe.
— A little month; or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father’s body Like Niobe, all tears;—why she, even she,— O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourn’d longer,—married with mine uncle, My father’s brother; but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month; Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married:— O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
I bought an unction of a mountebank, So mortal that, but dip a knife in it, Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, Collected from all simples that have virtue Under the moon, can save the thing from death This is but scratch’d withal: I’ll touch my point With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly, It may be death.
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She had the gall to ask for a raise.
all the greed and all the gall Is boiled away for once and all.