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SHAKESPEARE.

TEMPEST.

Act i. Sc. 2. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with ’t.

Act i. Sc. 2.
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.

Act ii. Sc. 2. A very

ancient and fish-like smell.

Act ii. Sc. 2. Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

Act iii. Sc. 3. Deeper than e'er plummet sounded.

Act iv. Sc. 1. Our revels now are ended : these our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air : And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,

Tempest - Continued.

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

Act v. Sc. 1.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie.

TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.

Act i. Sc. 2.
I have no other reason but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

To make a virtue of necessity.*

Act iv. Sc. 4
Is she not passing fair?

* Than I made vertue of necessite.

The Squier's Tale, Pt. 2.

CHAUCER.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

Act ii. Sc. 1.
Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Why, then the world 's mine oyster,
Which I with sword will open.

Act v. Sc. 1. They say, there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.

TWELFTH NIGHT.

Act i. Sc. 1.
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 odor.

Act i. Sc. 3.
I am sure care's an enemy to life.

Act i. Sc. 5. 'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on.

Twelfth Night - Continued.

Act ii. Sc. 3. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?

Act ii. Sc. 4.

Let still the woman take
An elder than herself ; so wears she to him,
So
sways

she level in her husband's heart.
For, boy, however we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn,
Than women's are.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

She never told her love,
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. 5. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon

them.

Act iii. Sc. 1.
O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip !

Act iii. Sc. 1.
Love sought is good, but given unsought is better.

Twelfth Night - Continued.

Act iii. Sc. ii. Let there be gall enough in thy ink; though thou write with a goose-pen, no matter.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

Act i. Sc. 1. Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues.

Act i. Sc. 5.

Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win,
By fearing to attempt.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

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

Act iii. Sc. 1.
The miserable have no other medicine,
But only hope.

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