H

He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.-Roм. I., 1.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.-Rom. II.,

2.

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.-ROM. II., 2.

I

I, measuring his affections by my own,-that most are busied when they are most alone,-pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, and gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.-BEN. I., 1.

I'll now his grievance, or be much denied.-BEN. I., 1.

I'll look to like, if looking liking move.-JUL. I., 3.

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, too rude, too boist rous; and it pricks like thorn.-Roм. I., 4.

I talk of dreams; which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy; which is as thin of substance as the air; and more inconstant than the wind, who wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south.-MER. I., 4.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn, no nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: night's candles are

burnt out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.-ROм. III., 5.

I have more care to stay than will to go.-ROM. III., 5.

In one little body thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind for still thy eyes, which I may call a sea, do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; who,-raging with thy tears, and they with them,-without a sudden calm, will overset the tempest-tossed body.-CAP. III., 5.

',

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, that sees into the bottom of my grief.-JUL. III., 5.

It is-music with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding.-PET. IV., 5.

I do remember an apothecary,-and hereabouts he dwells, whom late I noted in tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, culling of simples.-ROM. V., 1.

I will raise her statue in pure gold; that, while Verona by that name is known, there shall no figure at such rate be set, as that of true and faithful Juliet.— MON. V., 3.

J

Joy comes well in such a needful time.—JUL. III., 5.

L

Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being

purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourished with lovers' tears: what is it else? a madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.-ROM. I., 1.

Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books: but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.-ROM. II., 2.

Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.-FRI. II., 9.

M

My only love sprung from my only hate! too early seen unknown, and known to late.-JUL. I., 5.

My life were better ended by their hate, than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.-Roм. II., 2.

Many for many virtues excellent, none but for some, and yet all different.-FRI. II., 3.

My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; and, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.-Roм. V., 1.

Mischief! thou art swift to enter in the thoughts of desperate men!-ROM. V., 1.

N

Nought so vile that on the earth doth live, but to the earth some special good doth give.—FRI. II., 3.

0

O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, that when she dies, with beauty dies her store.-Roм. I., 1.

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish!-BEN.

2.

One desperate grief cures with another's languish.— BEN. I., 2.

O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate-stone on the fore-finger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.-MER. I., 4.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!-ROM. II., 2.

O, Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?— JUL. II., 2.

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable.-JUL. II., 2.

O, for a falconer's voice, to lure this tassle-gentle back again! bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; else would I tear the cave where echo lies, and make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine with repetition of my Romeo's name.—JUL. II., 2.

O fortune, fortune: all men call thee fickle: if thou art fickle, what dost thou with him that is renown'd for faith? JUL. III., 5.

P

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.—TYB. I., 5.

Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say— good night, till it be morrow.—JUL. II., 2.

Ꭱ

Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.-FRI.

II., 3.

S

Sad hours seem long.-Roм. I., 1.

So shews a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellows shews.—Rom. I., 5.

So light a foot will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.-FRI. II., 6.

Some grief shews much of love; but much of grief shews still some want of wit.-LA. CAP. III., 5.

T

The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; and flecked darkness like a drunkard reels from forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels.-FRI. II., 3.

Thou sham'st the music of sweet news by playing it to me with so sour a face.-JUL. II., 5.