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If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
Twelfth Night. Act iii. 8c. 4.
More matter for a May morning. Ibid.
Still you keep o' the windy side of the law. Ibid.
An I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I 'I'd have seen him damned ere I 'Id have challenged him. Hid A
Out of my lean and low ability
I 'll lend you something. Ibid.^
As the old hermit of Prague, that never saw pen and ink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc, That that is is. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Clo, What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl?
Mai. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
Clo. "What thinkest thou of his opinion?
Mai. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion. Ibid.
Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.
Act v. Sc. 1. For the rain it raineth every day. Ibid.
What's gone and what's past help
Should be past grief. The Winter's Tale. Act iii. Sc. 2.
A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. Act iv. 8c. 3.»
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a. Ibid.
1 Art iii. Sc. 5, Ryce.
a Act iv. Sc. 2, Djce, Knight, Singer, Staunton, White.
To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. lbid.1
Lord of thy presence and no land beside.
And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter;
For he is but a bastard to the time
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age’s tooth. Ibid.
I would that I were low laid in my grave:
Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e’er since
He is the half part of a blessed man,
Zoundsl I was never so bethumped with words
1 Art iv. Sc. 3, Dyce, Knight, Singer, Staunton, White.
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.
King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.1
Here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. lhid*
Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward ! Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety! Ihid.
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a ealf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Ibid.
That no Italian priest
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Act iii. Se. 4.
Life is as tedious as a twiee-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. lhid.
When Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye. lhid.
And he that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. lhid.
How now, foolish rheum! Act iv. So, 1.
1 Aet ii. Se. 2, White.
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the iee, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
King John. Aet iv. Se. 2.
And oftentimes excusing of a fault
Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse. ihid.
We cannot hold mortality's strong hand. Ibid.
Make haste; the better foot before. lhid.
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news. Ibid.
Another lean unwashed artifieer. Ibid.
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Make deeds ill done! ihid.
Mocking the air with eolours idly spread. Act v. Sc. 1.
This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. Aet v. Se. 7.
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true. lhid.
Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Laneaster.
King Richard f act i. Sc. 1.
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. Ibid.
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
Aet i. Sc . 3.
Truth hath a quiet breast. 1hid.
All places that the eye of heaven visits
King Richard 11. Act i. Sc. 3.
0, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. Ibid.
The tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony. Act ii. Sc. 1.
The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past. Ibid.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
The ripest fruit first falls. Ibid.
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. Act ii. Sc. 3. Eating the bitter bread of banishment. Act m. Sc. 1.