text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"TAMORA
I will not hear her speak. Away with her!
LAVINIA
Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
to Tamora
DEMETRIUS
Listen, fair madam, let it be your glory
To see her tears, but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
LAVINIA
When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
O, do not learn her wrath! She taught it thee.
The milk thou sucked'st from her did turn to marble,
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike.
(II.iii.137-146)",2009-09-14 19:33:45 UTC,"""Listen, fair madam, let it be your glory / To see her tears, but be your heart to them /As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.""",2003-08-04 00:00:00 UTC,"Act II, scene iii. Lavinia begs for mercy before Tamora","",,"","",HDIS,8762,3446
"A ROMAN LORD
Speak, Rome's dear friend, as erst our ancestor
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
To lovesick Dido's sad-attending ear
The story of that baleful-burning night
When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam's Troy.
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.
My heart is not compact of flint nor steel,
Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
And break my utt'rance even in the time
When it should move ye to attend me most,
And force you to commiseration.
Here's Rome's young captain. Let him tell the tale,
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
(V.iii.79-94)",2009-09-14 19:33:45 UTC,"""My heart is not compact of flint nor steel""",2003-08-04 00:00:00 UTC,"Act V, scene iii. Chiron, and Demetrius have been discovered as Lavinia's rapists","",,"","•Compact here means composed.
•Note this is one of Ted Cohen's ""twice-true"" metaphors. Meta-metaphorical. ",HDIS,8767,3446
"RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER
To fight on Edward's party for the crown,
And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up.
I would to God my heart were flint like Edward's,
Or Edward's soft and pitiful like mine.
I am too childish-foolish for this world.
(I.iii.138-42)",2009-09-14 19:33:46 UTC,"""I would to God my heart were flint like Edward's, / Or Edward's soft and pitiful like mine.""",2003-08-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Act I, scene iii. Richard and Old Queen Margaret (Edward's mother)","",,"","",HDIS,8787,3452
"SILVIA
O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman --
Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not --
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished.
Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
I bear unto the banished Valentine,
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
Thyself hast loved, and I have heard thee say
No grief did ever come so near thy heart
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
Upon whose grave thou vowed'st pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
And for the ways are dangerous to pass
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief,
And on the justice of my flying hence
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company and go with me.
If not, to hide what I have said to thee
That I may venture to depart alone.
(IV.iii, ll. 11-36)",2011-08-26 14:41:04 UTC,"""I do desire thee, even from a heart / As full of sorrows as the sea of sands / To bear me company and go with me.""",2003-07-29 00:00:00 UTC,"Act IV, scene iii","",2011-08-26,"",Reviewed 2003-10-23,HDIS,9145,3546
"QUEEN MARGARET
Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome leper -- look on me!
What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?
Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb?
Why, then Queen Margaret was ne'er thy joy.
Erect his statuë and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I for this nigh wrecked upon the sea,
And twice by awkward winds from England's bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well forewarning winds
Did seem to say, ""Seek not a scorpion's nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind shore"".
What did I then, but cursed the gentle gusts
And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves,
And bid them blow towards England's blessèd shore,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock.
Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee.
The pretty vaulting sea refused to drown me,
Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on shore
With tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness.
The splitting rocks cow'red in the sinking sands,
And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck --
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds --
And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it,
And so I wished thy body might my heart.
And even with this I lost fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,
And called them blind and dusky spectacles
For losing ken of Albion's wishèd coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue --
The agent of thy foul inconstancy --
To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did,
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father's acts, commenced in burning Troy!
Am I not witched like her? Or thou not false like him?
Ay me, I can no more. Die, Margaret,
For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
(III.ii.73-121)",2009-12-12 18:29:57 UTC,"""The splitting rocks cow'red in the sinking sands, / And would not dash me with their ragged sides, / Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they, / Might in thy palace perish Margaret.""",2003-07-30 00:00:00 UTC,"Act III, scene ii. Gloucester has just died. Henry provokes Margaret's speech","",,"",•Follow the hearts through the passage. The flinty heart becomes a diamond encrusted heart.,HDIS,9168,3548
"RICHARD
Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel,
As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds,
I come to pierce it or to give thee mine.
(II.i.)",2014-03-12 19:06:59 UTC,"""Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, / As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, / I come to pierce it or to give thee mine.""",2003-07-31 00:00:00 UTC,"Act II, scene i","",,Metal,•There are plenty of hard hearts that I have not included in the database. This metaphor is slightly more embellished and qualifies.
•I've included twice: Steel and Flint,HDIS,9178,3549
"KING HENRY
My queen and son are gone to France for aid,
And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick
Is thither gone to crave the French King's sister
To wife for Edward. If this news be true,
Poor Queen and son, your labour is but lost --
For Warwick is a subtle orator,
And Louis a prince soon won with moving words.
By this account, then, Margaret may win him --
For she's a woman to be pitied much.
Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast,
Her tears will pierce into a marble heart,
The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn,
And Nero will be tainted with remorse
To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears.
Ay, but she's come to beg; Warwick to give.
She on his left side, craving aid for Henry;
He on his right, asking a wife for Edward.
She weeps and says her Henry is deposed,
He smiles and says his Edward is installed;
That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more,
Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong,
Inferreth arguments of mighty strength,
And in conclusion wins the King from her
With promise of his sister and what else
To strengthen and support King Edward's place.
O, Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul,
Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn.
(III.i.28-54)",2009-09-14 19:34:01 UTC,"""Her sighs will make a batt'ry in his breast, / Her tears will pierce into a marble heart.""",2003-08-01 00:00:00 UTC,"Act III, scene i.","",,"",•I've included twice: Battery and Marble.,HDIS,9182,3549
"DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
O, sir, I did not look so low. To
conclude, this drudge or diviner laid claim to me, called
me Dromio, swore I was assured to her, told me what
privy marks I had about me -- as the mark of my
shoulder, the mole in my neck, the great wart on my
left arm -- that I, amazed, ran from her as a witch. And
I think if my breast had not been made of faith, and
my heart of steel, she had transformed me to a curtal
dog, and made me turn i' th' wheel.
(III.ii.144-52)",2009-09-14 19:34:01 UTC,"""I think if my breast had not been made of faith, and my heart of steel, she had transformed me to a curtal dog, and made me turn i' th' wheel.""",2003-08-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Act III, scene ii. ","",,Metal,"",HDIS,9188,3550
"DROMIO OF SYRACUSE
No, he's in Tartar limbo, worse than hell.
A devil in an everlasting garment hath him,
One whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;
A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;
A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow launds;
A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dryfoot well;
One that before the Judgement carries poor souls to hell
(IV.ii.32-40)",2009-09-14 19:34:01 UTC,"""A devil in an everlasting garment hath him, / One whose hard heart is buttoned up with steel.""",2003-08-07 00:00:00 UTC,"Act IV, scene ii.","",,Metal,•Does this belong with 'Clothing' metaphors?,HDIS,9190,3550
"CLIFFORD
My gracious liege, this too much lenity
And harmful pity must be laid aside.
To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick?
Not his that spoils her young before her face.
Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting?
Not he that sets his foot upon her back.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.
Ambitious York doth level at thy crown,
Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows:
He, but a duke, would have his son a king,
And raise his issue, like a loving sire;
Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son,
Didst yield consent to disinherit him,
Which argued thee a most unloving father.
Unreasonable creatures feed their young;
And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet, in protection of their tender ones,
Who hath not seen them, even with those wings
Which sometime they have used with fearful flight,
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offer their own lives in their young's defence?
For shame, my liege, make them your precedent!
Were it not pity that this goodly boy
Should lose his birthright by his father's fault,
And long hereafter say unto his child,
'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got
My careless father fondly gave away'?
Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy;
And let his manly face, which promiseth
Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart
To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.
(II.ii)",2014-03-12 19:13:07 UTC,"""Look on the boy; / And let his manly face, which promiseth / Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart / To hold thine own and leave thine own with him.""",2014-03-12 19:13:07 UTC,"Act II, scene ii","",,Metal,"",Searching,23669,3549