I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows, 1. If you were men, as men you are in show, you would not use a gentle lady so.-HEL. III., 2. I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones.-BOT. IV., 1. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged, and duty in his service perishing.-HIP. V., 1. It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.-Lys. V., 1. If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men.-THE. V., 1. L Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.—HEL. I., 1. Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends.-THE. V., 1. Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, in least, speak most, to my capacity.-THE. V., 1. K M Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief? That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow, how shall we find the concord of this discord?-PHILOST. V., 1. N Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, and yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; at whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, troop home to church-yards.-PUCK. III., 2. Never any thing can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.-THE. V., 1. S Since once I sat upon a promontory, and heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, that the rude sea grew civil at her song; and certain stars shot madly from their spheres to hear the sea-maid's music.—OBE. II., 2. Scorn and derision never come in tears.-Lys. III., 2. Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, steal me a while from mine own company.-HEL. III., 2. Such tricks hath strong imagination; that, if it would but apprehend some joy, it comprehends some bringer of that joy, or, in the night, imagining some fear, how easy is a bush supposed a bear?-THE. T To you your father should be as a god; one that compos'd your beauties; yea, and one to whom you are but as a form in wax, by him imprinted, and within his power to leave the figure, or disfigure it.-THE. I., 1. The course of true love never did run smooth.-Lys. I., 1. To-morrow night when Phoebe doth behold her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, &c., &c.-Lys. I., 1. Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity.—HEL. I., 1. That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. -Bot. I., 2. The sun was not so true unto the day, as he to me. -HER. III., 2. There is no following her in this fierce vein.-DEm. III., 2. This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.-HEL. III., 2. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.—THE. V., 1. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.-THE. 1. ས.. W We cannot fight for love, as men may do : we should be woo'd, and were not made to woo.-HEL. II., 2. Who will not change a raven for a dove?-Lys. II., 3. Why should he stay, whom love doth press to go?LYS. III., 2. We will, fair queen, up to the mountain's top, and mark the musical confusion of hounds and echo in conjunction.-THE. IV., 1. Y Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: it fell upon a little western flower,-before, milk-white; now purple with love's wound,—and maidens call it love-inidleness.-OBE. II., 2. You spend your passion on a mispris'd mood.—DEM. III., 2. You are too officious in her behalf, that scorns your services.-DEM. III., 2. King Lear. A Although the last, not least.-LEAR, Act I., Scene 1. A good man's fortune may grow out at heels.— KENT, II., 2. All's not offence, that indiscretion finds, and dotage terms so.-GON. II., 4. Allow not nature more than nature needs.—LEAR, II., 4. All friends shall taste the wages of their virtue, and all foes the cup of their deservings.—ALB. V., 3. B Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow! You cataracts, and hurricanoes, spout till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, vaunt couriers to oak-cleaving thunder-bolts, singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, strike flat the thick rotundity o' the world! Crack nature's moulds, all germens spill at once, that make ingrateful man!— LEAR, III., 2. |