For there was never yet philosopher Act v. Sc. 1. I was not born under a rhyming planet. Act v. Sc. 2. Done to death by slanderous tongues. Act v. Sc. 3. MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. But earthlier happy is the rose distilled, For aught that ever I could read, Act i. Sc. 1. The course of true love never did run smooth. Act i. Sc. 1. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. Masters, spread yourselves. This is Ercles' vein. Act i. Sc. 1. Act i. Sc. 2. Act i. Sc. 2. I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 't were any nightingale. Act i. Sc. 2. A proper man, as one shall see in a summer's day. Act i. Sc. 2. Act ii. Sc. 2. And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music. In maiden meditation, fancy free. I'll put a girdle round about the earth, Act ii. Sc. 2. Act ii. Sc. 2. I know a bank, whereon the wild thyme blows, Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows. Act ii. Sc. 2. A lion among ladies, is a most dreadful thing. Act iii, Sc. 1. Bless thee Bottom! bless thee! thou art translated. Act iii. Sc. 1. So we grew together, Like to a double cherry, seeming parted. Act iii, Sc. 2. I have an exposition of sleep come upon me. Act iv. Sc. 1. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Act iv. Sc. 1. Are of imagination all compact. The lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt. The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven, And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. Act v. Sc. 1. The best in this kind are but shadows. Act v. Sc. 1. LOVE'S LABOR'S LOST. Light, seeking light, doth light of light beguile. Small have continual plodders ever won, Than those that walk and wot not what they are. That unlettered, small-knowing soul. Act i. Sc. 1. Act i. Sc. 1. A child of our grandmother Eve, a female The rational hind Costard. Act i. Sc. 1. Act i. Sc. 2. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. A merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, So sweet and voluble is his discourse. Act i. Sc. 2. Act ii. Sc. 1. Act ii. Sc. 1. A very beadle to a humorous sigh. Act iii. Sc. 1. This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid: . He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book. Dictynna, good-man Dull. Act iv. Sc. 2. Act iv. Sc. 2. These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion. Act iv. Sc. 2. For where is any author in the world, Act iv. Sc. 3. It adds a precious seeing to the eye. Act iv. Sc. 3. As sweet, and musical, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. Act iv. Sc. 3. They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps. Act v. Sc. 1. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. Act v. Sc. 1. In the posteriors of this day; which the rude multitude call the afternoon. Act v. Sc. 1, They have measured many a mile, To tread a measure with you on this grass. Act v. Sc. 2. A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it. Act v. Sc. 2 When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight. Act v. Sc. 2. MERCHANT OF VENICE. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time. Act i. Sc. 1. Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Act i. Sc. 1. You have too much respect upon the world: Act i. Sc. 1. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; Act i. Sc. 1. |