By shallow rivers, to whose falls 1 The Passionate Shepherd to his Love And I will make thee beds of roses And a thousand fragrant posies. Infinite riches in a little room. Ibid. The Jew of Malta. Act i. Excess of wealth is cause of covetousness. Ibid. Now will I show myself to have more of the serpent 2 than the dove; that is, more knave than fool. Love me little, love me long.3 When all the world dissolves, Act i Act iv. And every creature shall be purified, All places shall be hell that are not heaven. Faustus. Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss ! Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies! Ibid. O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars. Ibid. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough,5 That sometime grew within this learned man. Ibid. 1 To shallow rivers, to whose falls There will we make our peds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies. SHAKESPEARE: Merry Wives of Windsor, act iii. sc. i. (Sung by Evans). - 2 Be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves. Matthew z. 16. 3 See Heywood, page 16. 4 Once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through TENNYSON: Fatima, stanza 3. 8 O, withered is the garland of the war! The soldier's pole is fallen. SHAKESPEARE: Antony and Cleopatra, act iv. sc. 13. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 1564-1616. (From the text.of Clark and Wright.) I would fain die a dry death. The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. What seest thou else Who having into truth, by telling of it, Ibid. Sc. 2. Ibid. To credit his own lie. Ibid. My library The fringed curtains of thine eye advance. The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 2. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: Gon. Here is everything advantageous to life. A very ancient and fish-like smell. / Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. Fer. Here's my hand. Mir. And mine, with my heart in 't. He that dies pays all debts. A kind Of excellent dumb discourse. Deeper than e'er plummet sounded. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, With foreheads villanous low. Deeper than did ever plummet sound Where the bee sucks, there suck I; Merrily, merrily shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Sc. 2. Ibid. Act iii. Sc. 1. Sc. 2. Sc. 3. Ibid. Act iv. Sc. 1. Ibid. Act v. Sc. 1. Ibid. Ibid Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act i. Sc. 1 I have no other but a woman's reason: O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, Sc. 2. Sc. 3. Act ii. Sc. 1. As a nose on a man's face,1 or a weathercock on a steeple. She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, Ibid. The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. Sc. 4. He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. Sc. 7. That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, Act iii. Sc. 1. Except I be by Sylvia in the night, A man I am, cross'd with adversity. Is she not passing fair? How use doth breed a habit in a man! 2 O heaven! were man But constant, he were perfect. Come not within the measure of my wrath. I will make a Star-chamber matter of it. Ibid. Act iv. Sc. 1. Sc. 4. Act v. Sc. 4. Ibid. Ibid. The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1. All his successors gone before him have done 't; and all his ancestors that come after him may. Ibid. 1 As clear and as manifest as the nose in a man's face. - BURTON: Anat omy of Melancholy, part iii. sect. 3, memb. 4, subsect. 1. 2 Custom is almost second nature. - PLUTARCH: Preservation of Health It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love. The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 1 Seven hundred pounds and possibilities is good gifts. Mine host of the Garter. Ibid. Ibid. I had rather than forty shillings I had my Book of Songs and Sonnets here. Ibid. If there be no great love in the beginning, yet heaven may decrease it upon better acquaintance, when we are married and have more occasion to know one another: I hope, upon familiarity will grow more contempt.1 Ibid. O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? Sc. 3. "Convey," the wise it call. "Steal!" foh! a fico for the phrase! Ibid. Sail like my pinnace to these golden shores. Ibid. Tester I'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! Ibid. Thou art the Mars of malcontents. Ibid. Here will be an old abusing of God's patience and the Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. Ibid. Like a fair house, built on another man's ground. Ibid. We have some salt of our youth in us. Sc 3 1 Familiarity breeds contempt. PUBLIUS SYRUS: Maxim 640 |