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Enter the KING, frowning on them; takes his seat. GARDINER. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven
In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince;
His royal self in judgment comes to hear
Bishop of Winchester. But know, I come not
But, whatsoe'er thou tak'st me for, I am sure,
He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee:
No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought, I had had men of some understanding
And wisdom, of my council; but I find none.
Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye
CHANCELLOR. Thus far, My most dread sovereign, may it like your grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purpos'd
Concerning his imprisonment, was rather
(If there be faith in men,) meant for his trial, And fair purgation to the world, than malice; I am sure, in me.
K. HEN. Well, well, my lords, respect him;
Am, for his love and service, so to him.
I have a suit which you must not deny me; That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism:
You must be godfather, and answer for her.
K. HENRY VIII., A. 5, s. 2.
A HAPPY CONSCIENCE THE
K. RICHARD. Who saw the sun to-day?
Not I, my
K. RICH. Then he disdains to shine; for,
by the book,
He should have brav'd the east an hour ago:
A black day will it be to somebody.
RAT. My lord ?
K. RICH. The sun will not be seen to-day; The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would, these dewy tears were from the ground. Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me, More than to Richmond? for the self-same
That frowns on me, looks sadly upon him.
K. RICHARD III., A. 5, s. 3.
A MAN REAPS WHAT HE SOWS.
PAROLLES. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
CLOWN. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.
PAR. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath most cruelly scratched.
LAFEU. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long
under her. There's a quart d'ecu for the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, A. 5, s. 2.
A MIND DISTURBED IS A MIND
TRIFLES, light as air, Are, to the jealous, confirmations strong As proofs of holy writ. This may do something. The Moor already changes with my poison:Dangerous conceits are, in their natures, poisons, Which, at the first, are scarce found to distaste; But, with a little act upon the blood,
Burn like the mines of sulphur.-I did say so:Look, where he comes! Not poppy, nor mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
OTHELLO, A. 3, s. 3.
A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS.
BASSANIO. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance : Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, Wherein my time, something too prodigal, Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio, I owe the most, in money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
ANTONIO. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
BASS. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
The self-same way, with more advised watch,
I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof,
ANT. You know me well; and herein spend but time,
To wind about my love with circumstance;