Twelfth Night continued.]

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

Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion? Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

Thus the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges.

For the rain it raineth every day.

Act v. Sc. 1.

THE WINTER'S TALE.

A snapper-up of unconsidered trifles.

A

merry heart goes all the day,

Your sad tires in a mile-a.

Daffodils,

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

Ibid.

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.

Act iv. Sc. 3.1

When you do dance, I wish you

A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do

Nothing but that.

To unpath'd waters, undream'd shores.

Ibid.

KING JOHN.

Ibid.

Lord of thy presence, and no land beside.

Act i. Sc. 1.

And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names.

1 Sc. 4, Cambridge ed.

[King John continued.

For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation.

Act i. Sc. I.

Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth.

For courage mounteth with occasion.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. I.

I would that I were low laid in my grave;

I am not worth this coil that 's made for me.

Ibid.

St. George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er

since

Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door.

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

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 2.1

Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words Since I first called my brother's father, dad.

Ibid.

Here I and sorrows sit;

Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it.

Act iii. Sc. 1.2

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.

1 Sc. 2, Malone, Singer, Staunton, Knight. Sc. 1, White, Dyce, Cambridge. 2 Act ii. Sc. 2, White.

King John continued.]

That no Italian priest

Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

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.
Act iii. 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.

And he that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.

How now, foolish rheum!

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. I.

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.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

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

We cannot hold mortality's strong hand. Ibid.
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.

[King John continued. Another lean, unwash'd artificer. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Ibid.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds
Makes ill deeds done!
Mocking the air with colours idly spread.

Act v. Sc. 1.

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

Act v. Sc. 7.

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.

KING RICHARD II.

Ibid.

Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster.

Act i. Sc. 1.

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

Act i. Sc. 3.

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

The tongues of dying men
Enforce attention, like deep harmony.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 1.

King Richard II. continued.]

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

Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king.

Ibid.

O, call back yesterday, bid time return. Ibid. Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.

Ibid.

And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings.