[As You Like It continued.

How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!

Act v. Sc. 2.

An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own.

Act v. Sc. 4.

The Retort Courteous; the Quip Modest; the Reply Churlish; the Reproof Valiant; the Countercheck Quarrelsome; the Lie with Circumstance; the Lie Direct.

Ibid.

As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,
And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;
And twenty more such names and men as these,
Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Induc. Sc. 2. No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en ; In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Act i. Sc. I.

There's small choice in rotten apples. Ibid. Tush! tush! fear boys with bugs. Act i. Sc. 2. And do as adversaries do in law,

Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

And thereby hangs a tale.1

My cake is dough.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. I.

Act v. Sc. I.

1 Othello, Act iii. Sc. 1. Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. Sc. 4. As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7.

The Taming of the Shrew continued.]

A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

Act v. Sc. 2.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband.

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

It were all one

Ibid.

That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it.

Acti. Sc. 1.

Act i. Sc. 3.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Service is no heritage.

He must needs go that the Devil drives.

My friends were poor but honest.
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

I will show myself highly fed, and lowly taught.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by th' doer's deed.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good

[All's Well that Ends Well continued.

The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time.

All impediments in fancy's course
Are motives of more fancy.

TWELFTH NIGHT.

If music be the food of love, play on ;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again; it had a dying fall:

Ibid.

O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,1
That breathes upon a bank of violets,

Stealing and giving odour.

Act i. Sc. I.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life. Act i. Sc. 3.

At my fingers' ends.

Wherefore are these things hid?

Ibid.

Ibid.

'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.

And leave the world no copy.

Act i. Sc. 5.

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

Journeys end in lovers' meeting

Ibid.

Ibid.

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.

1 "Like the sweet sound:" thus the original, and followed by White and Knight.

Twelfth Night continued.]

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.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

These most brisk and giddy-paced times.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

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 won,
Than women's are.

Ibid.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself,
Or thy affection cannot hold the bent.

Ibid.

The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,

Do use to chaunt it.

Ibid.

And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age.

Ibid.

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.

Ibid.

I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too.

Ibid.

[Twelfth Night continued.

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

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

The trick of singularity.

Ibid.

Ibid.

O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

Act iii. Sc. I.

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.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

This is very Midsummer madness.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

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

More matter for a May morning.

Ibid.

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'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him.

Ibid.

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.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

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

1 Sc. 5, Dyce.