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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. 4.1

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

Ibid. I love 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. Α; 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.3 Zounds! I was never so bethump’d with words Since I first call’d my brother's father dad.

Sc. 2.3

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

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


absent child, Lies in his bed, walks


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 now, 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.

1 Act ii. Sc. 2 in White.

2 When fortune flatters, she does it to betray. — Publius SYRUS: Maxim 278.




And oftentimes excusing of a fault
Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse."

King John. Act ir. Sc. 2.
We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.

Make haste; the better foot before.

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 artificer.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Make deeds ill done!

Mocking the air with colours idly spread. Act v. Sc. 1.

'T is strange that death should sing.
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Sc. 7.
my soul hath elbow-room.

This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.

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.

Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster.

King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 1. In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. Sc. 3.
Truth hath a quiet breast.

All places that the eye of heaven visits
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.


i Qui s'excuse, s'accuse (He who excuses himself accuses himself). – GABRIEL MEURIER: Trésor des Sentences. 1530-1601.

3 See page 63, note 2.

Oh, 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 ?
Oh, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.

King Richard II. Act i. Sc. 3.
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, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

Ibid. The ripest fruit first falls.

Ibid. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor. Eating the bitter bread of banishment.

Act iii. Sc. 1. Fires the proud tops of the eastern pines.

Sc. 2. Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. Ibid. Oh, call back yesterday, bid time return!

Ibid. Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.


Sc. 3.

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l-izothing can we call our own but death

that small model of the barren earth
Watch serves as paste and corer to our bones.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
Asd tell sad stories of the death of kings.

King Richard II. Act üi. Sc. 2.
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Pores through his castle wall — and farewell king!

He is come to open
The purple testament of bleeding war.

Sc. 3.
And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave.


His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long. Act iv. Sc. 1.
A mockery king of snow.

As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious.

Act r. Sc. 2.
As for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.' Ibid.
So shaken as we are, so wan with care.

King Henry II'. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

In those holy fields
Over whose acres walked those blessed feet
Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd
For our allvantage on the bitter cross.

Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of
the moon.
Old father antic the law.


Sc. 2.

1 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God. – Matt. vir. 24.

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