THIEF,-continued.

Break shops; nothing can you steal,
But thieves do lose it.

Master, be one of them;
It is an honourable kind of thievery.

THORNY POINT.

O, that way madness lies; let me shun that;
No more of that.

THOUGHT.

T. A. iv. 3.

T.G. iv. L.

K. L. iii. 4.

In the quick forge and working house of thought.

Jumping o'er times;

Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass.

Sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts.

A generation of still-breeding thoughts,

H.V. v. chorus.

H.V. i. chorus

And these same thoughts people this little world;
In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented.

THOUGHTFULNESS.

R. II. i. 3.

R. II. v. 5.

Why, he stalks up and down like a peacock, a stride and a stand; ruminates, like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her brain to set down her reckoning; bites his lip with a politic regard, as who should say, there were wit in his head, an 'twould out; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking.

My lord, we have

T.C. iii. 3.

Stood here observing him; some strange commotion
Is in his brain; he bites his lip, and starts;
Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground,
Then lays his finger on his temple; straight,
Springs out into fast gait, then, stops again,
Strikes his breast hard; and anon, he casts

His eye against the moon; in most strange postures
We have seen him set himself.

There is a mutiny in his mind.

H.VIII. iii. 2.

H.VIII. iii. 2.

THREAT.

Unmanner'd dog! stand thou when I command:
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,

Or, by St. Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,

And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. R. III. i. 2.

Priest, beware your beard;

I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly:

THREAT,-continued.
Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat;
In spite of pope or dignities of church,
Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down.

Unhand me, gentlemen ;

H.VI. PT. 1. i. 2.

By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.

spurn thine eyes

Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head;

H. i. 4.

Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine,
Smarting in ling'ring pickle.

Therefore hence, begone :

But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry

In what I further shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee, joint by joint,

A. C. ii. 5.

And strew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs:
The time and my intents are savage wild;
More fierce, and more inexorable far,

Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

By my soul,

R. J. v. 3.

Your long coat, priest, protects you; thou shoulds't feel
My sword i' the blood of thee else. My lords,
Can ye endure to hear this arrogance?—
And from this fellow?

H.VIII. iii. 2.

Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this?
Are we turn'd Turks; and to ourselves do that
Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites?
For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl:
He that stirs next to carve for his own rage,
Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion.

For your partaker, Poole, and you yourself,
I'll note you in my book of memory,
To scourge you for this apprehension.

O. ii. 3.

Look to it well; and say you are well warn'd.

H.VI. PT. I. ii. 4.

H. iii. 4.

That roars so loud and thunders in the index.

If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps:
Fill all thy bones with achés, make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

And he that throws not up his cap for joy,
Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head.

T. i. 2.

H. VI. PT. III. ii. 1.

THREAT,-continued.

If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Well, go, muster men. But, hear you, leave behind
Your son, George Stanley: look your heart be firm,
Or else his head's assurance is but frail.

THRIFT.

This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

THUNDER (See TEMPEST).

TIME (See also LIFE, MAN).

T. i. 2.

R. III. iv. 4.

I,-that please some, try all; both joy, and terror,
Of good and bad; that make, and unfold error.

Cormorant devouring time.

M.V. i. 3.

W.T. iv. chorus.

L. L. i. 1.

What's past, and what's to come, is strew'd with husks,
And formless ruin of oblivion.

Let me pass:—

The same I am, ere antient order was,

Or what is now receiv'd. I witness to

The times that brought them in; so shall I do

T. C. iv. 5.

To the freshest things now reigning, and make stale
The glistering of this present.

Beauty, wit,

W.T. iv. chorus.

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all
To envious and calumniating time.

Come what come may,

T. C. iii. 3.

Time and the hour run through the roughest day. M. i. 3.

It is in my power

To o'erthrow law, and in one self-born hour,

To plant and o'erwhelm custom.

What's past is prologue.

W.T. iv. chorus.

T. ii. 1.

Well, thus we play the fools with the time; and the spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us.

H. IV. PT. II. ii. 2.

Let's take the instant by the forward top;
For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees
The inaudible and noiseless foot of time
Steals ere we can effect them.

It is ten o'clock;

Thus may we see, quoth he, how the world wags:

A. W. v. 3.

TIME,-continued.

"Tis but an hour ago, since it was nine;
And after an hour more, 'twill be eleven ;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot, and rot,
And thereby hangs a tale.

A. Y. ii. 7. O, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of mine old acquaintance are dead! H. IV. PT. II. iii. 2.

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. He ambles with a priest that lacks Latin, and a rich man that hath not the gout: for the one sleeps easily, because he cannot study; and the other lives merrily, because he feels no pain: the one lacking the burden of lean and wasteful learning; the other knowing no burden of heavy tedious penury: These time ambles withal. He trots hard with a young maid, between the contract of her marriage, and the day it is solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, time's pace is so hard, that it seems the length of seven years. He gallops with a thief to the gallows: for though he goes as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. He stays still with lawyers in the vacation: for they sleep between term and term, and then they perceive not how time moves. A.Y. iii. 2.

She should have died hereafter;

There would have been a time for such a word.—

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.

M. v 5.

H.IV. PT. I. v. 4.

Time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop.

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Towards Phoebus' mansion; such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.

Men must endure

Their going hence, even as their coming hither:
Ripeness is all.

The extreme parts of time extremely form
All causes to the purpose of his speed;

R. J. iii. 2.

K. L. v. 2.

TIME,-continued.

L. L. v. 2.

And often, at his very loose, decides
That which long process could not arbitrate.
Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides.
Old Time, the clock setter, that bald sexton, Time,
Is it as he will?

We are Time's subjects, and Time bids be gone.

Time is like a fashionable host,

K. L. i. 1.

K. J. iii. 1.

H. IV. PT. II. i. 3.

That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand;
And with his arms out-stretch'd, as he would fly,
Grasps in the comer: welcome ever smiles,
And farewell goes out sighing.

T.C. iii. 3.

Time is a very bankrupt, and owes more than he's worth

to season.

The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
How sour sweet music is

When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of our lives.

AND DECAY.

C. E. iv. 2.

T. N. iii. 1.

The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show,
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory,
Thou by thy dial's shady stealth maiest know,
Time's thievish progress to eternity.
Not know my voice! O, time's extremity!
Hast thou so crack'd and splitted my poor tongue,
In seven short years, that here my only son
Knows not my feeble key of untun'd cares?
Though now this grained face of mine be hid
In sap-consuming winter's drizzled snow,
And all the conduits of my blood froze up;
Yet hath my night of life some memory,
My wasting lamp some fading glimmer left,
My dull deaf ears a little use to hear.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
Oh, grief hath chang'd me since you saw me last,
And careful hours, with Time's deformed hand
Have written strange defeatures in my face.

TIME SERVer.

R. II. v. 5.

Poems.

C. E. v. 1.

R. II. v. 5.

C. E. v. 1.

Sirrah, thou art said to have a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no farther than this world,
And squar'st thy life according.

M. M. v. 1.

The devil a puritan is he, or any thing constantly, but a time-pleaser.

T. N. ii. 3.