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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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Where is thy power, then, to beat him back?

  Here may you see the tyrant. Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. To whom I will retail my conquest won, The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up 
O heavenly powers, restore him!

 Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform And part in just proportion our small power.-- Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power: My operant powers their functions leave to do: O heavenly powers, restore him! What does the tyrant? My operant powers their functions leave to do: May be the devil: and the devil hath power Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror: Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.