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He was ever precise in promise-keeping.

Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 2. Who may, in the ambush of my name, strike home.

Sc. 3.1 I hold you as a thing ensky'd and sainted.

A man whose blood
Is very snow-broth; one who never feels
The wanton stings and motions of the sense.

He arrests him on it;
And follows close the rigour of the statute,
To make him an example.

Ibid.1
Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt.

Ibid. The jury, passing on the prisoner's life, May in the sworn twelve have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try.

Act ii. Sc. 1. Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.

Ibid. This will last out a night in Russia, When nights are longest there.

Ibid Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it ? - Sc. 2. No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace As mercy does.

Ibid Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy. How would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are ?

Ibida

Act i. Sc. 5, in White, Singer, and Knight.
Compare Portia's words in Merchant of Venice, act iv. sc. 1.

Ibid.

The law hath not been dead, though it hath slept.

Measure for Measure. Act ii. Sc. 2.

0, it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.

Ibid. But man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep. That in the captain 's but a choleric word Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Ibid. Our compell’d sins Stand more for number than for accompt.

Sc. 4. The miserable have no other medicine, But only hope.

Act iii. Sc. 1. A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. Palsied eld.

Ibid. The sense of death is most in apprehension; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies. The cunning livery of hell. Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world.

bid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid

The weariest and most loathed worldly life
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment
Can lay on nature, is a paradise
To what we fear of death. Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.
The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.

Ibid. Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.

Ibia. There, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana.?

Ibid. 0, what may man within him hide, Though angel on the outward side !

Sc. 2.
Take, O, take those lips away,

That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,

Lights that do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again, bring again;
Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain.

Act iv. Sc. 1.
Every true man's apparel fits your thief.
We would, and we would not.

Sc. 4 A forted residence 'gainst the tooth of time And razure of oblivion.

Act v. Sc. 1. Truth is truth To the end of reckoning.

Ibid. My business in this state Made me a looker on here in Vienna.

Ibid.

1 See Spenser, page 29.

2 “Mariana in the moated grange," – the motto used by Tennyson for the poem “Mariana."

3 This song 'occurs in Act 1. Sc, 2 of Beaumont and Fletcher's Bloody Brother, with the following additional stanza:

Hide, O, hide those hills of snow,

Which thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow

Are of those that April wears!
But first set my poor heart free,
Bound in those icy chains by thee.

They say, best men are moulded out of faults;
And, for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad. Measure for Measure. Act e. Sc. 2.
What's mine is yours, and what is yours is mine. Ibid.
The pleasing punishment that women bear.

The Comedy of Errors. Act i. Sc. 1. A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. Act i. Sc 1, Every why hath a wherefore.

Sc. 2 Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.

Act iii. Sc. 1. One Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy.

Act o. Sc. 1. A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man.

Ibid. Let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

Ibid. He hath indeed better bettered expectation.

Much Ado about Nothing Act i. Sc. 1. A very valiant trencher-man.

Ibid. He wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat. What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living ? Ibid. There's a skirmish of wit between them.

Ibid. The gentleman is not in your books.

Ibid. Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Ibid. Benedick the married man.

Ibid. He is of a very melancholy disposition.

Ibid. He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.

Act ü. Sc. 1. As merry as the day is long.

ibid. I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by day. light.

Ibid.

Ibid. Ibid.

1 For every why he had a wherefore. — BUTLER: Hudibras, part i canto i. line 132.

Speak low if you speak love.

Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 1 Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues ; Let every eye negotiate for itself And trust no agent.

Ibid. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy: I were but little happy, if I could say how much.

Lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain and to the purpose.

Sc. 3.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,

Men were deceivers ever, —
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.

Ibid. Sits the wind in that corner ?

Shall quips and sentences and these paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humour ? No, the world must be peopled. When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married.

Ibid. Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Act ii. Sc. 1. From the crown of his head to the sole of his foot, i he is all mirth.

Sc. 2. Every one can master a grief but he that has it. Ibid. Are you good men and true ?

Sc. 3. To be a well-favoured man is the gift of fortune ; but to write and read comes by nature.

Ibid. The most senseless and fit man.

Ibid.

Ibid.

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rom the crown of his head to the sole of the foot. - Pliny : Natuistory, book vii. chap. xvii. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: The Honest

ral History, book vii. chap. xv Man's Fortune, act ii. sc. 2

ortune, act ii. sc. 2. MIDDLETON: A Mad World, etc.

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