Romeo and Juliet-Continued. Act ii. Sc. 2. At lover's perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. Act ii. Sc. 2. O swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, Act ii. Sc. 2. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow. Act ii. Sc. 3. Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears. Act ii. Sc. 4. Stabbed with a white wench's black eye. Act ii. Sc. 4. I am the very pink of courtesy. Act ii. Sc. 4. My man's as true as steel. Act ii. Sc. 6. Here comes the lady ; — O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint. Act iii. Sc. 1. A plague o' both the houses! Romeo and Juliet - Continued. Rom. Mer. Act iii. Sc. 1. Courage, man! the hurt cannot be much. a church-door; but 'tis enough. Act iii. Sc. 3. Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy. Act iii. Sc. 5. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Act iv. Sc. 2. Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. Act v. Sc. 1. My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne. Act v. Sc. 1. A beggarly account of empty boxes. Act v. Sc. 1. My poverty, but not my will, consents. Act. v. Sc. 3. Beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Act v. Sc. 3. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! HAMLET. Act i. Sc. 1. This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Act i. Sc. 1 In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. Act i. Sc. 1. And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. Act i. Sc. 1. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Act i. Sc. 2. The head is not more native to the heart. Act i. Sc. 2. A little more than kin, and less than kind. Act i. Sc. 2. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. Hamlet-Continued. Act i. Sc. 2. But I have that within which passeth show; Act i. Sc. 2. O that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Or that the everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! That it should come to this! Hyperion to a satyr! so loving to my mother, Why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. My father's brother; but no more like my father Than I to Hercules. Act i. Sc. 2. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. He was a man, take him for all in all, Act i. Sc. 2. A countenance more In sorrow than in anger. Act i. Sc. 3. And in the morn and liquid dew of youth. Act i. Sc. 3. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, Neither a borrower nor a lender be, Act i. Sc. 3. Springes to catch woodcocks. |