But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. Act v. Sc. 1. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. Act v. Sc. I. The man that hath no music in himself, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. How far that little candle throws his beams! Act v. Sc. I. So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Act v. Sc. 1. AS YOU LIKE IT. Well said that was laid on with a trowel. Acti. Sc. 2. My pride fell with my fortunes. Cel. Not a word? Acti. Sc. 2. Ros. Not one to throw at a dog. Acti. Sc. 3. O how full of briars is this working-day world! Acti. Sc. 3. We'll have a swashing and a martial outside. Acti. Sc. 3. Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything. Act ii. Sc. 1. The big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose In piteous chase. Act ii. Sc. 1. 'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou mak'st a testament, As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, O, good old man; how well in thee appears And railed on lady Fortune in good terms, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Act ii. Sc. 3. Act ii. Sc. 3. Act ii. Sc. 7. Says, very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock.' 'Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags.' Act ii. Sc. 7. 'And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, Act . Sc. 7. My lungs began to crow like chanticleer. Act ii. Sc. 7. Motley's the only wear. Act ii. Sc. 7. If ladies be but young and fair, They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, Act ii. Sc. 7. I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please. Act ii. Sc. 7. The why is plain as way to parish church. Act ii. Sc. 7. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Is second childishness and mere oblivion; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Act ii. Sc. 7. Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude. The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she. Act ii. Sc. 7. Act iii. Sc. 2. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? Act iii. Sc. 2. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping. Act iii. Sc. 2. Every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellowfault came to match it. Act iii. Sc. 2. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much.* Act iii. Sc. 2. Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical. Down on your knees, Act iii. Sc. 3. And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. Act iii. Sc. 5. It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sadness. Act iv. Sc. 1. Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit. Act iv. Sc. I. I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad. Act iv. Sc. I. Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Act iv. Sc. I. Men are April when they woo, December when they wed. Act iv. Sc. I. Pacing through the forest, Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy. Act iv. Sc. 3. No sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, * See Spenser, ante, p. 25. |