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I Once Did Hold It, As Our Statists Do, A Baseness To Write Fair, And Labour'd Much How To Forget That Learning; But, Sir, Now It Did Me Yeoman's Service.

-William Shakespeare

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I Once Did Hold

William Shakespeare

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I Once Did Hold It, As Our Statists Do, A Baseness To Write Fair, And Labour'd Much How To Forget That Learning; But, Sir, Now It Did Me Yeoman's Service.

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O Sir, You Are Old; Nature In You Stands On The Very Verge Of Her Confine; You Should Be Ruled And Led By Some Discretion, That Discerns Your Fate Better Than You Yourself.

My Life, My Joy, My Food, My Ail The World!

If This Were Played Upon A Stage Now, I Could Condemn It As An Improbable Fiction.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse, How Have I Frighted Thee, That Thou No More Wilt Weigh My Eyelids Down And Steep My Senses In Forgetfulness? Why Rather, Sleep, Liest Thou In Smoky Cribs, Upon Uneasy Pallets Stretching Thee, And Hush'd With Buzzing Night-flies To Thy Slumber, Than In The Perfum'd Chambers Of The Great, Under The Canopies Of Costly State, And Lull'd With Sound Of Sweetest Melody?

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

Lady, You Know No Rules Of Charity, Which Renders Good For Bad, Blessings For Curses.

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

Besides, They Are Our Outward Consciences, And Preachers To Us All, Admonishing That We Should Drew Us Fairly For Our End.

The Poor World Is Almost Six Thousand Years Old, And In All This Time There Was Not Any Man Died In His Own Person, Videlicet, In A Love-cause.

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

The Weight Of This Sad Time We Must Obey, Speak What We Feel, Not What We Ought To Say. The Oldest Hath Borne Most: We That Are Young Shall Never See So Much, Nor Live So Long.

See How She Leans Her Cheek Upon Her Hand. O, That I Were A Glove Upon That Hand That I Might Touch That Cheek!

This Rough Magic I Here Abjure And When I Have Required Some Heavenly Music, Which Even Now I Do, To Work Mine End Upon Their Senses That This Airy Charm Is For, I'll Break My Staff, Bury It Certain Fathoms In The Earth, And Deeper Than Did Ever Plummet Sound, I'll Drown My Book.

How Quickly Nature Falls Into Revolt When Gold Becomes Her Object! For This The Foolish Over-careful Fathers Have Broke Their Sleep With Thoughts, Their Brains With Care, Their Bones With Industry.

Who Riseth From A Feast With That Keen Appetite That He Sits Down?

Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment Late.

Take It In What Sense Thou Wilt.

Romeo And Juliet Play

Well, Whiles I Am A Beggar, I Will Rail, And Say There Is No Sin But To Be Rich; And Being Rich, My Virtue Then Shall Be To Say There Is No Vice But Beggary

Things At The Worst Will Cease Or Else Climb Upward To What They Were Before.

You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles. I Have A Soul Of Lead.

Every Thing That Grows / Holds In Perfection But A Little Moment.

What The Great Ones Do, The Less Will Prattle Of

Until I Know This Sure Uncertainty, I'll Entertain The Offered Fallacy.

To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time. Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue.

Venus Smiles Not In A House Of Tears.

But There Is No Such Man; For, Brother, Men Can Counsel And Speak Comfort To That Grief Which They Themselves Not Feel; But, Tasting It, Their Counsel Turns To Passion, Which Before Would Give Preceptial Medicine To Rage, Fetter Strong Madness In A Silken Thread, Charm Ache With Air And Agony With Words.

Your Face, My Thane, Is As A Book Where Men May Read Strange Matters. To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time; Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue: Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under't.

The Better Part Of Valor Is Discretion, In The Which Better Part I Have Saved My Life.

Offering Advice

This Goodly Frame, The Earth, Seems To Me A Sterile Promontory.

Conversation Should Be Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Free Without Indecency, Learned Without Conceitedness, Novel Without Falsehood.

When That Churl Death My Bones With Dust Shall Cover.

Sweets To The Sweet.

Crowns In My Purse I Have, And Goods At Home, And So Am Come Abroad To See The World.

When Once Our Grace We Have Forgot, Nothing Goes Right.

Measure For Measure

What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not Seen? What Is Joy If Sylvia Be Not By?

I Know A Place Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows.

Greatness, Once Fallen Out With Fortune, Must Fall Out With Men Too.

The Heavens Themselves, The Planets, And This Centre Observe Degree, Priority, And Place, Insisture, Course, Proportion, Season, Form, Office, And Custom, In All Line Of Order.

Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feelings As To Sight?

When Devils Will The Blackest Sins Put On They Do Suggest At First With Heavenly Shows

This Fellow Pecks Up Wit, As Pigeons Peas; And Utters It Again When God Doth Please: He Is Wit's Pedler; And Retails His Wares.

He That Keeps Not Crust Nor Crum Weary Of All, Shall Want Some.

Thus Conscience Does Make Cowards Of Us All; And Thus The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Slicked O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought

This Wimpled, Whining, Purblind, Wayward Boy, This Senior Junior, Giant Dwarf...cupid.

How Use Doth Breed A Habit In A Man.

Two Stars Keep Not Their Motion In One Sphere.

Doubt Is A Thief That Often Makes Us Fear To Tread Where We Might Have Won.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Lend Me Your Ears; I Come To Bury Caesar, Not To Praise Him.

As Good Luck Would Have It, Comes In One Mistress Page, Gives Intelligence Of Ford's Approach, And In Her Invention, And Ford's Wife's Distraction, They Conveyed Me Into A Buck-basket.

Women's Weapons, Water-drops.

Lechery, Lechery; Still, Wars And Lechery: Nothing Else Holds Fashion.

Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man’s Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie.

A Man I Am Cross'd With Adversity.

He Is Not Great Who Is Not Greatly Good.

Let Fancy Still In My Sense In Lethe Steep; If It Be Thus To Dream, Still Let Me Sleep!

Not That I Loved Caesar Less, But That I Loved Rome More.

What Cannot Be Saved When Fate Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes

Thou Art The Best O' The Cut-throats

Be Collected. No More Amazement. Tell Your Piteous Heart There's No Harm Done.

Lords, Knights And Gentlemen, What I Should Say My Tears Gainsay; For Every Word I Speak, Ye See I Drink The Water Of My Eye.

By The Pricking Of My Thumbs, Something Wicked This Way Comes.

You Are Not Wood, You Are Not Stones, But Men; And Being Men, Hearing The Will Of Caesar, It Will Inflame You, It Will Make You Mad.

Most Dangerous Is That Temptation That Doth Goad Us On To Sin In Loving Virtue.

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.

Procrastination

O,speak To Me No More;these Words Like Daggers Enter My Ears.(a Fancy Way Of Saying Shut Up!)" — William Shakespeare "hamlet

I'll Follow Thee And Make A Heaven Of Hell, To Die Upon The Hand I Love So Well

For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth Done.

I Had Rather Be A Kitten, And Cry Mew, Than One Of These Same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I Had Rather Heare A Brazen Candlestick Turn'd, Or A Dry Wheele Grate On The Axle-tree, And That Would Set My Teeth Nothing An Edge, Nothing So Much, As Mincing Poetrie.

Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I A Vine, Whose Weakness, Married To Thy Stronger State, Makes Me With Thy Strength To Communicate.

...too Much Sadness Hath Congealed Your Blood,and Melancholy Is The Nurse Of Frenzy.

Show Me A Mistress That Is Passing Fair, What Doth Her Beauty Serve But As A Note Where I May Read Who Pass'd That Passing Fair?

I Am As True As Truth's Simplicity, And Simpler Than The Infancy Of Truth.

Make Me A Willow Cabin At Your Gate, And Call Upon My Soul Within The House; Write Loyal Cantons Of Contemned Love And Sing Them Loud Even In The Dead Of Night.

It Is A Good Divine That Follows His Own Instructions.

Following Instructions

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

Though Music Oft Hath Such A Charm To Make Bad Good, And Good Provoke To Harm.

We Are Time's Subjects, And Time Bids Be Gone.

Time Management

Crabbed Age And Youth Cannot Live Together: Youth Is Full Of Pleasance, Age Is Full Of Care.

In Thee Thy Mother Dies, Our Household's Name, My Death's Revenge, Thy Youth, And England's Fame.

Young Men's Love Then Lies Not Truly In Their Hearts, But In Their Eyes.

Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield, Day, To Night!

Who Knows Himself A Braggart, Let Him Fear This; For It Will Come To Pass That Every Braggart Will Be Found An Ass.

The Curse Of Marriage That We Can Call These Delicate Creatures Ours And Not Their Appetites!

O God Of Battles! Steel My Soldiers’ Hearts. Possess Them Not With Fear.

Flesh And Blood, You, Brother Mine, That Entertain'd Ambition, Expell'd Remorse And Nature, Who, With Sebastian- Whose Inward Pinches Therefore Are Most Strong- Would Here Have Kill'd Your King, I Do Forgive Thee, Unnatural Though Thou Art.

Appetite, A Universal Wolf.

On A Day - Alack The Day! - Love, Whose Month Is Ever May, Spied A Blossom Passing Fair Playing In The Wanton Air

Blest Are Those Whose Blood And Judgment Are So Well Commingled, That They Are Not A Pipe For Fortune's Finger To Sound What Stop She Please.

I Do Repent; But Heaven Hath Pleas'd It So To Punish Me With This, And This With Me, That I Must Be Their Scourge And Minister. I Will Bestow Him, And Will Answer Well The Death I Gave Him. So Again Good Night. I Must Be Cruel Only To Be Kind. Thus Bad Begins And Worse Remains Behind.

Come, Go With Us, Speak Fair; You May Salve So, Not What Is Dangerous Present, But The Los Of What Is Past.

Let Witchcraft Join With Beauty, Lust With Both!

Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

I Can Express No Kinder Sign Of Love, Than This Kind Kiss.

Affection, Mistress Of Passion, Sways It To The Mood Of What It Likes Or Loathes.

Silence Is The Perfectest Herault Of Joy. I Were But Little Happy If I Could Say How Much.

Oh, That Way Madness Lies; Let Me Shun That.

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

That Which Hath Made Them Drunk Hath Made Me Bold; What Hath Quenched Them Hath Given Me Fire.

Prophet May You Be! If I Be False, Or Swerve A Hair From Truth, When Time Is Old And Hath Forgot Itself, When Waterdrops Have Worn The Stones Of Troy, And Blind Oblivion Swallowed Cities Up, And Mighty States Characterless Are Grated To Dusty Nothing, Yet Let Memory, From False To False, Among False Maids In Love, Upbraid My Falsehood!

Crack'd In Pieces By Malignant Death.

Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?

Winding Up Days With Toil And Nights With Sleep.

So Many Hours Must I Take My Rest; So Many Hours Must I Contemplate.

You Know That Love Will Creep In Service Where It Cannot Go.

Travelers Never Did Lie, Though Fools At Home Condemn Them.

From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive: They Sparkle Still The Right Promethean Fire; They Are The Books, The Arts, The Academes, That Show, Contain And Nourish All The World.

Trifles Light As Air Are To The Jealous Confirmations Strong As Proofs Of Holy Writ.

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

Be As Thou Wast Wont To Be. See As Thou Wast Wont To See.

Awake, Awake, English Nobility! Let Not Sloth Dim Your Horrors New-begot.

Think, When We Talk Of Horses, That You See Them Printing Their Proud Hoofs I' The Receiving Earth.

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!

Between The Acting Of A Dreadful Thing And The First Motion, All The Interim Is Like A Phantasma Or A Hideous Dream.

It Is In Pardoning That We Are Pardoned.

Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?

There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings.

Virtue Is Chok'd With Foul Ambition

You, And Your Lady, Take From My Heart All Thankfulness!

Condemn The Fault And Not The Actor Of It?

Measure For Measure

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good. Pity Is The Virtue Of The Law, And None But Tyrants Use It Cruelly.

Live Loath'd And Long, Most Smiling, Smooth, Detested Parasites, Courteous Destroyers, Affable Wolves, Meek Bears, You Fools Of Fortune, Trencher Friends, Time Flies Cap And Knee Slaves, Vapors, And Minute Jacks.

Though Justice Be Thy Plea Consider This, That In The Course Of Justice None Of Us Should See Salvation.

I Have Thought Some Of Nature's Journeymen Had Made Men And Not Made Them Well, They Imitated Humanity So Abominably.

You Are Yoked With A Lamb, That Carries Anger As The Flint Bears Fire; Who, Much Enforced, Shows A Hasty Spank, And Straight Is Cold Again.

There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die, No Soul Will Pity Me.

The Appurtenance Of Welcome Is Fashion And Ceremony.

When He Shall Die, Take Him And Cut Him Out In Little Stars, And He Will Make The Face Of Heaven So Fine That All The World Will Be In Love With Night And Pay No Worship To The Garish Sun.

Earth-treading Stars That Make Dark Heaven Light

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None.

O King, Believe Not This Hard-hearted Man!

The Gaudy, Blabbing, And Remorseful Day Is Crept Into The Bosom Of The Sea.

Tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich.

Better Three Hours Too Soon, Than One Hour To Late.

The Truest Poetry Is The Most Feigning.

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

You Cannot, Sir, Take From Me Any Thing That I Will More Willingly Part Withal: Except My Life, Except My Life, Except My Life.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Important Hamlet

When Great Leaves Fall, The Winter Is At Hand.

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

That Is Honor's Scorn Which Challenges Itself As Honor's Born And Is Not Like The Sire. Honors Thrive When Rather From Our Acts We Them Derive Than Our Foregoers.

Our Rash Faults Make Trivial Price Of Serious Thing We Have, Not Knowing Them Until We Know Their Grave.

Thieves For Their Robbery Have Authority When Judges Steal Themselves.

O My Good Lord, That Comfort Comes Too Late, 'tis Like A Pardon After Execution. That Gentle Physic, Given In Time, Had Cured Me; But Now I Am Past All Comforts Here But Prayers.

O, But They Say, The Tongues Of Dying Men Enforce Attention, Like Deep Harmony: Where Words Are Scarce, They Are Seldom Spent In Vain: For They Breathe Truth, That Breathe Their Words In Pain. He, That No More Must Say, Is Listened More Than They Whom Youth And Ease Have Taught To Gloze; More Are Men's Ends Marked, Than Their Lives Before: The Setting Sun, And Music At The Close, As The Last Taste Of Sweets, Is Sweetest Last; Writ In Rememberance More Than Things Long Past

He Reads Much; He Is A Great Observer And He Looks Quite Through The Deeds Of Men: He Loves No Plays, As Thou Dost, Antony; He Hears No Music; Seldom He Smiles, And Smiles In Such A Sort As If He Mock'd Himself And Scorn'd His Spirit That Could Be Moved To Smile At Any Thing. Such Men As He Be Never At Heart's Ease Whiles They Behold A Greater Than Themselves, And Therefore Are They Very Dangerous.

The Art Of Our Necessities Is Strange That Can Make Vile Things Precious.

Thrice Is He Arm'd That Hath His Quarrel Just, And He But Naked, Though Lock'd Up In Steel, Whose Conscience With Injustice Is Corrupted.

The Leopard Does Not Change His Spots.

Don Pedro Come, Lady, Come; You Have Lost The Heart Of Signior Benedick. Beatrice Indeed, My Lord, He Lent It Me Awhile; And I Gave Him Use For It, A Double Heart For His Single One: Marry, Once Before He Won It Of Me With False Dice, Therefore Your Grace May Well Say I Have Lost It. Don Pedro You Have Put Him Down, Lady, You Have Put Him Down. Beatrice So I Would Not He Should Do Me, My Lord, Lest I Should Prove The Mother Of Fools.

There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance; Pray You, Love, Remember: And There Is Pansies, That's For Thoughts. There's Fennel For You, And Columbines: — There 's Rue For You; And Here's Some For Me: — We May Call It, Herb Of Grace O'sundays: — You May Wear Your Rue With A Difference. — There's A Daisy: — I Would Give You Some Violets; But They Withered All, When My Father Died: — They Say, He Made A Good End.

But, Indeed, Words Are Very Rascals, Since Bonds [vows] Disgraced Them." Viola: "thy Reason, Man?" Feste: "troth [truthfully], Sir, I Can Yield You None Without Words, And Words Are Grown So False, I Am Loathe To Prove Reason With Them.

The Private Wound Is Deepest. O Time Most Accurst, 'mongst All Foes That A Friend Should Be The Worst!

Poor And Content Is Rich, And Rich Enough.

Mine Honor Is My Life, Both Grow In One. Take Honor From Me, And My Life Is Done. Then, Dear My Liege, Mine Honor Let Me Try; In That I Live, And For That I Will Die.

If You Prick Us Do We Not Bleed? If You Tickle Us Do We Not Laugh? If You Poison Us Do We Not Die? And If You Wrong Us Shall We Not Revenge?

Look, How This Ring Encompasseth Thy Finger, Even So Thy Breast Encloseth My Poor Heart; Wear Both Of Them, For Both Of Them Are Thine.

If I May Trust The Flattering Truth Of Sleep, My Dreams Presage Some Joyful News At Hand. My Bosom's Lord Sits Lightly In His Throne, And All This Day An Unaccustomed Spirit Lifts Me Above The Ground With Cheerful Thoughts.

Many Can Brook The Weather That Love Not The Wind.

There Was Never Yet Fair Woman But She Made Mouths In A Glass.

What A Fool Honesty Is.

When Death Doth Close His Tender Dying Eyes.

As True As Steel, As Plantage To The Moon, As Sun To Day, At Turtle To Her Mate, As Iron To Adamant, As Earth To Centre.

Fools Are Not Mad Folks.

A Hundred Thousand Welcomes: I Could Weep, And I Could Laugh; I Am Light And Heavy: Welcome.

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.

Tut, Man, One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning; One Pain Is Less'ned By Another's Anguish; Turn Giddy, And Be Holp By Backward Turning; One Desperate Grief Cures With Another's Languish.

Chain Me With Roaring Bears; Or Shut Me Nightly In A Charnel-house, O'er-covered Quite With Dead Men's Rattling Bones, With Reeky Shanks And Yellow Chapless Skulls; Or Bid Me Go Into A New-made Grave, And Hide Me With A Dead Man In His Shroud; Things That, To Hear Them Told, Have Made Me Tremble; And I Will Do It Without Fear Or Doubt, To Live An Unstain'd Wife Of My Sweet Love.

Instead Of Weeping When A Tragedy Occurs In A Songbird's Life, It Sings Away Its Grief. I Believe We Could Well Follow The Pattern Of Our Feathered Friends.

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.

His Neigh Is Like The Bidding Of A Monarch, And His Countenance Enforces Homage. He Is Indeed A Horse.

Words Without Thoughts Never To Heaven Go.

Hamlet And Ophelia

There's Such Divinity Doth Hedge A King That Treason Can But Peep To What It Would.

Kings And Queens

Swift As Shadow, Short As Any Dream

Every Man Has A Bag Hanging Before Him, In Which He Puts His Neighbour's Faults, And Another Behind Him In Which He Stows His Own.

There Is Nothing So Confining As The Prisons Of Our Own Perceptions.

Presume Not That I Am The Thing I Was.

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.

I Humbly Do Beseech Of Your Pardon, For Too Much Loving You

Let Each Man Do His Best.

What Is Past Is Prologue.

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

If It Be Aught Toward The General Good, Set Honor In One Eye And Death I' Th' Other, And I Will Look On Both Indifferently; For Let The Gods So Speed Me As I Love The Name Of Honor More Than I Fear Death.

O Constancy, Be Strong Upon My Side, Set A Huge Mountain 'tween My Heart And Tongue! I Have A Man's Mind, But A Woman's Might.

Heaven Would That She These Gifts Should Have, And I To Live And Die Her Slave.

In Peace There's Nothing So Becomes A Man As Modest Stillness And Humility: But When The Blast Of War Blows In Our Ears, Then Imitate The Action Of The Tiger; Stiffen The Sinews, Summon Up The Blood, Disguise Fair Nature With Hard-favour'd Rage; Then Lend The Eye A Terrible Aspect; . . . . Now Set The Teeth And Stretch The Nostril Wide, Hold Hard The Breath And Bend Up Every Spirit To His Full Height. On, On, You Noblest English.

But It Is A Melancholy Of Mine Own, Compounded Of Many Simples, Extracted From Many Objects, And Indeed The Sundry Contemplation Of My Travels, Which, By Often Rumination, Wraps Me In The Most Humorous Sadness.

Have More Than Thou Showest, Speak Less Than Thou Knowest, Lend Less Than Thou Owest.

By Medicine Life May Be Prolonged, Yet Death Will Seize The Doctor Too.

He Was Too Good To Be Where Ill Men Were, And Was The Best Of All Amongst The Rar'st Of Good Ones- Sitting Sadly Hearing Us Praise Our Loves Of Italy For Beauty That Made Barren The Swell'd Boast Of Him That Best Could Speak; For Feature, Laming The Shrine Of Venus Or Straight-pight Minerva, Postures Beyond Brief Nature; For Condition, A Shop Of All The Qualities That Man Loves Woman For; Besides That Hook Of Wiving, Fairness Which Strikes The Eye- Cymbeline.

The Sweets We Wish For, Turn To Loathed Sours, Even In The Moment That We Call Them Ours.

I Can Call Spirits From The Vasty Deep.

I Would We Were All Of One Mind, And One Mind Good.

Time Travels In Divers Paces With Divers Persons. I'll Tell You Who Time Ambles Withal, Who Time Trots Withal, Who Time Gallops Withal, And Who He Stands Still Withal.

How Many Ages Hence Shall This Our Lofty Scene Be Acted Over In States Unborn And Accents Yet Unknown!

Then Others For Breath Of Words Respect, Me For My Dumb Thoughts, Speaking In Effect.

This Act Is An Ancient Tale New Told; And, In The Last Repeating, Troublesome, Being Urged At A Time Unseasonable.

I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

Ere I Could Make Thee Open Thy White Hand, And Clap Thyself My Love; Then Didst Thou Utter, I Am Your's For Ever!

When He Is Best, He Is A Little Worse Than A Man; And When He Is Worst, He Is Little Better Than A Beast.

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