Epanalepsis

Roderigo
Tush, never tell me! I take it much unkindly
That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse
As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.
Iago
’Sblood, but you’ll not hear me!
If ever I did dream of such a matter,
Abhor me.
Roderigo
Thou toldst me thou didst hold him in thy hate.
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Portia
By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary
of this great world.
Nerissa
You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes
are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that
surfeit with too much as they that starve with
nothing.
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O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!Epizeuxis & Metaphor
Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d
His canon ‘gainst self-slaughter!Metonymy O God, God,
How Synonymiaweary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
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My only love sprung from my only hate!Paradox
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!Epanalepsis
Prodigious birth of love it is to me
That I must love a loathèd enemy.Irony
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Calphurnia
When beggars die there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Julius Caesar
Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
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Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown.
Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects.
I am not Adriana, nor thy wife.The time was onceHyperbaton when thou unurged wouldst vowAnastrophe
That never words were music to thine ear,
That never object pleasing in thine eye,
That never touch well welcome to thy hand,
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Marcus Brutus
Romans, countrymen, and lovers,Exordium hear me for my
cause, and be silent, that you may hear. Believe me
for mine honor, and have respect to mine honor
that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom,
and awake your senses, that you may the better judge.Epanalepses & Isocolon

There is tears for his love;
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Wherefore? Why, doth not every earthly thing
Cry shame upon her? Could she here deny
The story that is printed in her blood?—
Do not live, Hero, do not ope thine eyes,
For, did I think thou wouldst not quickly die,
Thought I thy spirits were stronger than thy shames,
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Give me another horse! Bind up my wounds!
Have mercy, Jesu!—Soft, I did but dream.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!Apostrophe & Alliteration
The lights burn blue; it is now dead midnight.
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.Transferred Epithet
What do I fear? Myself? There’s none else by.
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