_Childe Harold, Canto IV_. LORD BYRON.
We but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips.
_Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.
So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,
And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart.
_English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_. LORD BYRON.
Remember Milo's end,
Wedged in that timber which he strove to rend.
_Essays on Translated Verse_. W. DILLON.
REVENGE.
Souls made of fire and children of the sun,
With whom Revenge is virtue.
_The Revenge, Act V_. DR. E. YOUNG
And if we do but watch the hour,
There never yet was human power
Which could evade, if unforgiven,
The patient search and vigil long
Of him who treasures up a wrong.
_Mazeppa_. LORD BYRON
Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
_Titus Andronicus, Act ii. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
_Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.
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