You yourself

Are much condemned to have an itching palm.

Activ. Sc. 3.

The foremost man of all this world.

Activ. Sc. 3.

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon,

Than such a Roman.

Activ. Sc. 3

There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;
For I am armed so strong in honesty,
That they pass by me as the idle wind,
Which I respect not.

Act iv. Sc. 3.

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Activ. Sc. 3.

There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows, and in miseries.

Activ. Sc. 3.

The last of all the Romans, fare thee well. Act v. Sc. 3.

This was the noblest Roman of them all.

Act v. Sc. 5.

His life was gentle, and the elements
So mixed in him, that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world, This was a man!

Act v. Sc. 5.

ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA.

There's beggary in the love that can be reckoned.

For her own person,

Acti. Sc. t.

It beggared all description.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety.

This morning, like the spirit of a youth

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

That means to be of note, begins betimes.

Activ. Sc. 4.

CYMBELINE.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,*

Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth

Finds the down pillow hard.

* None but the lark so shrill and clear!

Act iii. Sc. 6.

Now at Heaven's gate she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.-JOHN LYLY.
Alexander and Campaspe. Act v. Sc. 1.

KING LEAR.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is,
To have a thankless child.

Acti. Sc. 4.

Striving to better, oft we mar what's well.

Acti. Sc. 4.

O, let not women's weapons, water-drops,
Stain my man's cheeks.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

Blow, wind, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!

Act iii. Sc. 2.

A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Tremble, thou wretch,

That hast within thee undivulged crimes,

Unwhipped of justice.

I am a man

More sinned against than sinning.

O, that way madness lies; let me shun that.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Poor naked wretches, whereso'er you are,

That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these?

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Take physic, pomp ;

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

The green mantle of the standing pool.

Act . Sc. 4

But mice, and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year.

The prince of darkness is a gentleman.

Act. Sc. 4

Act iii. Sc. 4.

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.

Act iii. Sc. 4

Fie, foh, and fum,

Act iii. Sc. 4.

I smell the blood of a British man.

The little dogs and all,

Tray, Blanch, and Sweet-heart, see, they bark at me.

Act iii. Sc. 6.

Patience and sorrow strove,

Who should express her goodliest.

Activ. Sc. 3.

Half way down

Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade !

Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head :

The fishermen, that walk upon the beach,

Appear like mice.

Ay, every inch a king.

Activ. Sc. 6.

Act iv. Sc. 6.

Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to

sweeten my imagination.

Activ. Sc. 6.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;

Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Activ. Sc. 6.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices

Make instruments to scourge us.

Her voice was ever soft,

Act v. Sc. 3.

Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him
That would upon the rack of this tough world

Stretch him out longer.

TITUS ANDRONICUS.

Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.

She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.

ROMEO AND JULIET.

The weakest goes to the wall.

Act v. Sc. 3.

Acti. Sc. 2.

Act ii. Sc. I.

Acti. Sc. 1.

Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,

Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Acti. Sc. 1.

One fire burns out another's burning.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish. Act i. Sc. 2.

That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.

Acti. Sc. 3.