Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.

Love's Labour's Lost, Act i. Sr. 2.

A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms :

Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.

A merrier man,

Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.

Delivers in such apt and gracious words
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
By my penny of observation.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose.
To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose.

A very beadle to a humorous sigh.

This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.

A buck of the first head.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink.

Ibid.

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.

Ibid

You two are book-men.

Ibid.

Dictynna, goodman Dull.

Ibid.

These are

begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished

in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.

For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself.

Ibid.

So. 3.

It adds a precious seeing to the eye.

Love's Labour's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3

As sweet and musical

1

As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; 1
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.

Ibid

Ibid.

He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.

Priscian! a little scratched, 't will serve.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.

Ibid.

In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.

They have measured many a mile

To tread a measure with you on this grass.

Let me take you a button-hole lower.

Ibid.

Sc. 2.

Ibid.

I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion.

Ibid.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

Of him that hears it, never in the tongue

Of him that makes it.

Ibid.

When daisies pied and violets blue,

And lady-smocks all silver-white,

And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue

Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men.

1 Musical as is Apollo's lute. — MILTON: Comus, line 78.

Ibid.

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of

Apollo.

Love's Labour's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

But earthlier happy is the rose distill'd

Than that which withering on the virgin thorn1
Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.

A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

For aught that I could ever read,2 Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth.

0, hell! to choose love by another's eyes.

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say, "Behold!"
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Masters, spread yourselves.

This is Ercles' vein.

I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.

I am slow of study.

That would hang us, every mother's son.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Sc. 2.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will

roar you, an 't were any nightingale.

A

proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day.

The human mortals.

The rude sea grew civil at her song,

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 1.8

And certain stars shot madly from their spheres

To hear the sea-maid's music.

1 Maidens withering

stanza 1.

on the stalk.

Ibid.

WORDSWORTH: Personal Talk,

2 "Ever I could read,” — Dyce, Knight, Singer, and White.

And the imperial votaress passed on,

In maiden meditation, fancy-free.

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-in-idleness.

A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.1

I'll put a girdle round about the earth
In forty minutes.2

Ibid.

My heart

Is true as steel.3

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
A lion among ladies is a most dreadful thing.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.

I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.

5

Ibid.

The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was.

1 Act ii. sc. 2 in Singer and Knight.

2 See Chapman, page 36.

Ibid.

8 Trew as steele. — CHAUCER: Troilus and Cresseide, book v. line 831.

4 Act ii. sc. 2 in Singer and Knight.

5 Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard.

- 1 Corinthians, ii. 9.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet
Are of imagination all compact:

One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,
That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,

Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:

The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,

Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth

The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

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!

For never

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act v. Sc. 1. anything can be amiss, When simpleness and duty tender it.

The true beginning of our end.1

Ibid.

Ibid.

The best in this kind are but shadows.

Ibid.

A very gentle beast, and of a good conscience.

Ibid.

This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go

near to make a man look sad.

Ibid.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.

Ibid.

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Nor to one place.

The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 1. Now, by two-headed Janus,

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time.

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it that do buy it with much care.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

I see the beginning of my end.-MASSINGER: The Virgin Martyr,

act iii. sc. 3.