Looking on the lines Of my boy’s face, methoughts I did recoil Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech’d, In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled, Lest it should bite its master, and so prove, As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.
] Fie, fie! no thought of him; The very thought of my revenges that way Recoil upon me: in himself too mighty, And in his parties, his alliance,—let him be, Until a time may serve: for present vengeance, Take it on her.
There are no more uses of "recoil" in the play.
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a low-recoil rifle
Most Americans recoil at the thought of government using torture.