Alliteration
Alliteration (al-lit'-er-a'-shen) is the repetition of an initial, stressed consonant sound for two or more words. “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought…” Sonnet 30. Alliteration is different from consonance, which is the repetition of a consonant sound on stressed or unstressed syllables that are not always at the beginnings of words. The repetition of “s” sounds, alliterative or consonant, is called sibilance.
Notes on Alliteration
Appearance and Prejudice
Read the NoteOne of Shakespeare’s most frequent themes is appearance versus reality. This theme manifests itself in different ways for different purposes. In Merchant of Venice (2.2.181), Bassanio says to Gratiano:
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice—
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults.
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Seduction or Harassment?
Read the NoteShakespeare delights in the seduction ceremonies of bright men with even brighter women. These dialogues, whether between adolescents like Romeo and Juliet, more mature characters like Henry V and Princess Katherine, or seasoned adults like the widow Lady Grey and the sexual harasser King Edward, in this scene (3HenryVI 3.2.36), give Shakespeare opportunities to employ dazzling webworks of rhetorical exchanges.
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Quotes including the Figure of Speech Alliteration
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
Read the SonnetWhen to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,Alliteration
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:Alliteration
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,Alliteration
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.
O, for a muse of fire
Read the QuoteO, for a muse of fire that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention!Metaphor
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!Anapodoton
Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? Or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
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Two households, both alike in dignity
Read the SonnetTwo households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudgeParenthesis break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.Antanaclesis & Synecdoche
From forth the fatal loins of these two foesAlliteration, Oxymoron & Synecdoche
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;Epithet
Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows
Doth with their deathAlliteration bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,Transferred Epithets
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,Parenthesis
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which if you with patient ears attend,
What here Alliterationshall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.Parenthesis & Synecdoche
I come no more to make you laugh
Read the QuoteI come no more to make you laugh. Things now
PersonificationThat bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe,
SynecdocheSuch noble scenes as draw the eye to flow,
We now present.Hyperbaton Those that can pity here
May,
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In sooth I know not why I am so sad
Read the QuoteAntonio
In sooth I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me, you say it wearies you.
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,Epistrophe
What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn.
And such a want-wit sadness makes of meHyperbaton
That I have much ado to know myself.
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Now is the winter of our discontent
Read the QuoteNowHyperbaton is the winter of our discontentMetaphor
Made glorious summerMetaphor by this son of York,Paronomasia
And all the clouds that louredMetaphor upon our houseMetonymy
In the deep bosom of the ocean MetaphorburiedHyperbaton & Ellipsis.
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I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honor
Read the QuoteLeonato
I find here that Don
Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young
Florentine called Claudio.
Messenger
Much deserved on his part, and equally
remembered by Don Pedro.Anapodoton He hath borne himself
beyond the promise of his age, doing in the figure
of a lamb the feats of a lion.
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Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life
Read the QuoteAngelo,
There is a kind of character in thy life,
That to th’ observer doth thy history
AlliterationFully unfoldHyperbaton. Thyself and thy belongings
Are not thine own so properAnastrophe as to waste
Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.
Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,
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Why, there’s no remedy
Read the QuoteIago
Why, there’s no remedy. ‘Tis the curse of service.
Preferment goes by letter and affection,
And not by old gradation, where each second
Stood heir to th’ first. Now, sir, be judge yourself
Whether I in any just term am affined
To love the Moor.
Roderigo
I would not follow him, then.
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Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
Read the QuoteTamora
Andronicus, stain notHyperbaton thy tomb with blood.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?Rhetorical Question
Draw near them then in being merciful.
Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.Metaphor
Thrice-noble TitusAlliteration, spare my first-born son.
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