TWELFTH NIGHT.

If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again; it had a dying fall:

O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.

I am sure care 's an enemy to life.

Acti. Sc. I.

Act i. Sc. 3.

'T is beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.

Act i. Sc. 5.

Journeys end in lovers' meeting

Every wise man's son doth know.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

He does it with a better grace, but I do it more natural.

Sir To. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?

Clo. Yes, by Saint Anne; and ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too.

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,

Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought;

And, with a green and yellow melancholy,
She sat, like Patience on a monument,

Smiling at grief.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

I am all the daughters of my father's house,
And all the brothers too.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

An you had any eye behind you, you might see more detraction at your heels than fortune before you.

Act ii. Sc. 5.

Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Act ii. Sc. 5.

O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

Act iii. Sc. I.

TWELFTH NIGHT-continued.]

Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

Act iii. Sc. I.

Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goosepen, no matter.

Why, this is very Midsummer madness.

Still you keep o' the windy side of the law.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

An I thought he had been valiant, and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I'd have challenged him.

Act iii. Sc. 4.1

Clo. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl?
Mal. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird.
Clo. What thinkest thou of his opinion?

Mal. I think nobly of the soul, and no way approve his opinion.

Thus the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

Act v. Sc. I.

KING JOHN-continued.]

I would that I were low laid in my grave;

I am not worth this coil that's made for me.

Act ii. Sc. I.

St. George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since
Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door.

Act ii. Sc. I.

Act iii. Sc. I.

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ;
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
And he that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
foolish rheum!

How now,

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

Act iv. Sc. I.

1 Sc. 2, Singer, Staunton, Knight. Sc. 1, White, Dyce, Cambridge.

2 Act ii. Sc. 2, White.

KING JOHN-continued.]

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news.
Another lean, unwash'd artificer.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true.

Act v. Sc. 7.

KING RICHARD II.

All places that the eye of heaven visits

Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.

Act i. Sc. 3.

O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic Summer's heat.
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;
This fortress, built by Nature for herself,
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Act i. Sc. 3.

Against the envy of less happier lands;

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

KING RICHARD II.-continued.]

Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs.
And nothing can we call our own but death,
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
He is come to ope

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

The purple testament of bleeding war.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon.

Act i. Sc. 2.

Old father antic the law.

Acti. Sc. 2.

Thou hast damnable iteration.

Acti. Sc. 2.

And now am I, if a man should speak truly, little better than one of the wicked.

Act i. Sc. 2.

'T is my vocation, Hal; 't is no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.

Act i. Sc. 2.

He will give the Devil his due.

Act i. Sc. 2.

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee.

Act i. Sc. 2.