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That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Except I be by Sylvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale.

Act iii. Sc. I.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Is she not passing fair?

Activ. Sc. 4.

How use doth breed a habit in a man.

Act v. Sc. 4.

COMEDY OF ERRORS.

One Pinch; a hungry lean-faced villain,

A mere anatomy.

Act v. Sc. I.

A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch,
A living dead man.

Act. v. Sc. 1.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

All his successors, gone before him, have done 't; and all his ancestors, that come after him, may.

Acti. Sc. 1.

It is a familiar beast to man, and signifies-love.

Mine host of the Garter.

Act i. Sc. 1.

Acti. Sc. 1.

Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase !

Acti. Sc. 3.

The humour of it.

Act ii. Sc. i.

Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now.

Act ii. Sc. I.

Why, then the world's mine oyster,

Which I with sword will open.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Oh, what a world of vile ill-favoured faults
Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year.

I have a kind of alacrity in sinking.

Act. iii. Sc. 4.

Act. iii. Sc. 5.

The rankest compound of villanous smell that ever offended nostril.

Act iii. Sc. 5.

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They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.

Act v. Sc. 1.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

Thyself and thy belongings

Are not thine own so proper, as to waste.

Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.
Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,

Not light them for themselves: for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched,

But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends

The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use.

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Act 1. Sc. I.

I hold you as a thing enskyed and sainted. Act i. Sc. 5.

Our doubts are traitors,

And make us lose the good we oft might win,

By fearing to attempt.

Acti. Sc. 5.

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. I.

This will last out a night in Russia,

Act . Sc. 1.

When nights are longest there.

Condemn the fault, but not the actor of it. Act . 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.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once;
And he that might the vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

O, it is excellent

To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous

To use it like a giant.

But man, proud man,

Dress'd in a little brief authority,

Most ignorant of what he's most assured,

His glassy essence,-like an angry ape,

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven,
As make the angels weep.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

That in the captain 's but a choleric word,

Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

The miserable have no other medicine,
But only hope.

Act iii. Sc. I.

Servile to all the skyey influences.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Palsied eld.

Act iii. Sc. I.

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.

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 regions of thick-ribbed ice;

Act iii. Sc. 1.

To be imprison'd in the viewless winds

And blown with restless violence round about
The pendent world.

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.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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.*

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Made me a looker-on here in Vienna.

Act v. Sc. I.

They say, best men are moulded out of faults.

Act v. Sc. I.

*This song is found in 'The Bloody Brother, or Rollo, Duke of Normandy,' by Beaumont and Fletcher, Act v. Sc. 2, with an additional stanza. There has been much controversy about the authorship, but the more probable opinion seems to be that the second stanza was added by Fletcher.

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