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Love's Labour's Lost continued.)
Act ii. Sc. I. By my penny of observation. Act iii. Sc. I. The boy hath sold him a bargain, a goose, that's Alat.
Ibid. A very beadle to a humorous sigh. Ibid. This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, Th' anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents. Thid.
He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book.
Act iv. Sc. 2. Dictynna, good-man Dull.
These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourish'd in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. Ibid. For where is any author in the world Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye? Learning is but an adjunct to ourself.
Act iv. Sc. 3. It adds a precious seeing to the eye. Ibid. 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.
[Love's Labour's Lost continued.
As sweet, and musical, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Act iv. Sc. 3. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
Act v. Sc. I. Priscian a little scratch'd ; 't will serve.
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.
Ibid. They have measur'd many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass.
Act v. Sc. 2. A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
And lady-smocks all silver white,
Act i. Sc. 1.1 1 'earthlier happy,' White, Cambridge, Dyce. Searthly happier,' Singer, Staunton, Knight.
A Midsummer Night's Dream continued.]
Act i. Sc. 1.
Ibid. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wingid Cupid painted blind.
Ibid. Masters, spread yourselves. Act i. Sc. 2. This is Ercles' vein.
Ibid. I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove : I will roar you, an 't were any nightingale.
Ibid. A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day.
Ibid. The human mortals.
Act ii. Sc. 1.1 And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Ibid.1 And the imperial vot'ress 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. Ibid. 1 I 'll put a girdle round about the Earth In forty minutes.
Ibid. 1 1 Act ii. Sc. I, White, Cambridge, Dyce, Staunton. Act ii. Sc. 2, Singer, Knight.
(A Midsummer Night's Dream continued.
My heart Is true as steel.
Act ii. Sc. 1.1 I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows; Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.
Actii. Sc. I. Bless thee, Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated.
So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted.
Act iii. Sc. 2. Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.
Act iv. Sc. I.
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. Ibid.
| Act ii. Sc. I, White, Cambridge, Dyce, Staunton. Act ii. Sc. 2, Singer, Knight.
A Midsummer Night's Dream continued.]
The best in this kind are but shadows. Ibid. The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.
Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time.
Act i. Sc. I. Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
You have too much respect upon the world :
Ibid. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one.
Ibid. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Ibid. There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond.
Ibid. I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark !
Ibid. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them ; and when you have them, they are not worth the search.