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Halloo your name to the reverberate hills,
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out.

Twelfth Night. Act , Sc. 5.
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.

Act ii. Sc. 3. Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty.

Ibid. He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Ibid. Is there no respect of place, persons, nor time in you ?

Ibid. Sir To. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?

Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne, and ginger shall be hot i’

the mouth too.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Sc. 4.

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.
These most brisk and giddy-paced times.

Let still the woman take
An elder than herself: so wears she to him,
So
sways

she level in her husband's heart:
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,

Than women's are.

Ibra.

Ibid,

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun
And the free maids that weave their thread with bones
Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,

Ibid

Like the old age.

Duke.

And what's her history? Vio

. A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i’ the bud,

Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought.
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief.

Twelfth Night. Act ü. Śc. 4
I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too.

Ibid. An you

had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortunes before you. Sc. 5

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.

Ibid. Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.

Act in. Sc. 1 Oh, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful In the contempt and anger of his lip!

Ibid. Love sought is good, but given unsought is better. Ibid.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.

Sc. 2 I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.

Sc. 4. Put thyself into the trick of singularity.

Ibid 'T is not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan.

Ibid. This is very midsummer madness.

Ibid. What, man! defy the Devil: consider, he is an enemy to mankind.

Ibid. If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

Ibid. 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'ld have seen him damned ere l’ld have challenged him.

Ibid.?

1 Act iii. Sc. 5 in Dyce.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

Almost as like as eggs.

Out of my lean and low ability
I'll lend you something.

Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.1 Out of the jaws of death.”

Ibid. 1 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.

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild fowl ?

Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.

Ibid. Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. For the rain it raineth every day.

They say we are

The Winter's Tale. Act i. Sc. 2. What's gone and what's past help

Act iii. Sc. 2 A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

Act iv. Sc. 3. A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.

Ibid O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, - a malady

Should be past grief.

1 Act jü. sc. 5 in Dyce.

stanza 3.

- Into the jaws of death. – Tennyson: The Charge of the Light Brigade,

In the jaws of death.– Du Bartas : Divine Weekes and Workes, seo 8 Act iv. sc. 2 in Dyce, Knight, Singer, Staunton, and White.

ond week, first day, part iv.

Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one. The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 41

When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea,2 that you might ever do
Nothing but that.

Ibid. I love a ballad in print o’ life, for then we are sure they are true.

Ibid. To unpathed waters, undreamed shores.

Ibid. Lord of thy presence and no land beside.

King John. Act i. Sc. 1. And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. Ibid. For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation.

Ibid. Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth. Ibid. For courage mounteth with occasion.

Act ii. Sc. 1 I would that I were low laid in my grave : I am not worth this coil that's made for me.

Ibid. Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door.

Ibid. He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.

Ibid. Talks as familiarly of roaring lions As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!

Ibid.8 Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words Since I first call’d my brother's father dad.

Sc. 2.8

1 Act iv. Sc. 3 in Dyce, Knight, Singer, Staunton, and White
* Like a wave of the sea. - James i. 6.
8 Act ii. Sc. 2 in Singer, Staunton, and Knight

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. Ibid. 1

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.

Ibid.
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Ibid

That no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.

Ibid Grief fills the room up

of
my

absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up

and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.

Sc. 4.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

Ibid. When Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye.? Ibid. And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.

Ibid. How foolish rheum !

Act iv. Sc. 1. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, 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.

Sc. 2.

now,

1 Act i. Sc. 2 in White. 3 When fortune flatters, she does it to betray. — Publius SYRUS Maxim 278.

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