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So, You Are Very Welcome To Our House. It Must Appear In Other Ways Than Words, Therefore, I Scant This Breathing Courtesy.

-William Shakespeare

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So, You Are Very

William Shakespeare

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So, You Are Very Welcome To Our House. It Must Appear In Other Ways Than Words, Therefore, I Scant This Breathing Courtesy.

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Good With Out Evil Is Like Light With Out Darkness Which In Turn Is Like Righteousness Whith Out Hope.

Patch Grief With Proverbs.

My Father Compounded With My Mother Under The Dragon's Tail, And My Nativity Was Under Ursa Major, So That It Follows, I Am Roughand Lecherous. Tut, I Should Have Been That I Am, Had The Maidenliest Star In The Firmament Twinkled On My Bastardizing.

What We Determine We Often Break. Purpose Is But The Slave To Memory.

For Mercutio's Soul Is But A Little Way Above Our Heads, Staying For Thine To Keep Him Company: Either Thou, Or I, Or Both, Must Go With Him.

Confess Yourself To Heaven, Repent What's Past, Avoid What Is To Come, And Do Not Spread The Compost On The Weeds To Make Them Ranker.

Why, Courage Then! What Cannot Be Avoided 'twere Childish Weakness To Lament Or Fear.

The Pow'r That I Have On You Is To Spare You; The Malice Towards You To Forgive You.

Honor's Thought Reigns Solely In The Breast Of Every Man.

My Love Is Deep; The More I Give To Thee, The More I Have, Both Are Infinite.

I Will Live In Thy Heart, Die In Thy Lap, And Be Buried In Thy Eyes—and Moreover, I Will Go With Thee To Thy Uncle’s.

Still Constant Is A Wondrous Excellence.

The Will Of Man Is By His Reason Sway'd.

Season Your Admiration For A While.

Love Is A Smoke Made With The Fume Of Sighs.

If You Would Persuade, You Must Appeal To Interest Rather Than Intellect. We Are Advertis'd By Our Loving Friends.

A Fool, A Fool! I Met A Fool I' Th' Forest, A Motley Fool! A Miserable World! As I Do Live By Food, I Met A Fool Who Laid Him Down And Basked Him In The Sun And Railed On Lady Fortune In Good Terms, In Good Set Terms, And Yet A Motley Fool.

As Soon Go Kindle Fire With Snow, As Seek To Quench The Fire Of Love With Words.

For A Noble Heart, The Most Precious Gift Becomes Poor, When The Giver Stops Loving.

So May The Outward Shows Be Least Themselves; The World Is Still Deceived With Ornament.

The Peace Of Heaven Is Theirs That Lift Their Swords, In Such A Just And Charitable War.

With Mirth In Funeral And With Dirge In Marriage.

World, World, O World! But That Thy Strange Mutations Make Us Hate Thee/ Life Would Not Yield To Age.

Would I Were In An Alehouse In London.

Unhappy That I Am, I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth.

I Never See Thy Face But I Think Upon Hell-fire.

The Dullness Of The Fool Is The Whetstone Of The Wits.

Taffeta Phrases, Silken Terms Precise, Three-piled Hyperboles, Spruce Affection, Figures Pedantical--these Summer Flies Have Blown Me Full Of Maggot Ostentation.

Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Hand Out Of Plackets, Thy Pen From Lender's Books, And Defy The Foul Fiend.

The Force Of His Own Merit Makes His Way-a Gift That Heaven Gives For Him.

There Is No Sure Foundation Set On Blood, No Certain Life Achieved By Others' Death.

I Knew When Seven Justices Could Not Take Up A Quarrel, But When The Parties Were Met Themselves, One Of Them Thought But Of An If, As, 'if You Said So, Then I Said So;' And They Shook Hands And Swore Brothers. Your If Is The Only Peacemaker; Much Virtue In If.

These Words Are Razors To My Wounded Heart.

Take No Repulse, Whatever She Doth Say; For 'get You Gone,' She Doth Not Mean 'away.' Flatter And Praise, Commend, Extol Their Graces; Though Ne'er So Black, Say They Have Angels' Faces

If You Did Wed My Sister For Her Wealth, Then For Her Wealth's Sake Use Her With More Kindness; Or, If You Like Elsewhere, Do It By Stealth; Muffle Your False Love With Some Show Of Blindness; Let Not My Sister Read It In Your Eye; Be Not Thy Tongue Thy Own Shame's Orator; Look Sweet, Speak Fair, Become Disloyalty; Apparel Vice Like Virtue's Harbinger; Bear A Fair Presence, Though Your Heart Be Tainted; Teach Sin The Carriage Of A Holy Saint; Be Secret-false.

Trip Over Love, You Can Get Up. Fall In Love And You Fall Forever. Anyone Can Catch Your Eye, But It Takes Someone Special To Catch Your Heart. Love Is A Smoke Made With The Fume Of Sighs.

Falling In Love

I'll Fight, Till From My Bones My Flesh Be Hacked.

The Liquid Drops Of Tears That You Have Shed Shall Come Again, Transform'd To Orient Pearl, Advantaging Their Loan With Interest Of Ten Times Double Gain Of Happiness.

He That Has A House To Put's Head In Has A Good Head-piece.

The Instruments Of Darkness Tell Us Truths.

Vice Repeated Is Like The Wandering Wind, Blows Dust In Others' Eyes To Spread Itself.

For There's No Motion That Tends To Vice In Man, But I Affirm It Is The Woman's Part.

Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me No Uncle; I Am No Traitor's Uncle, And That Word "grace" In An Ungracious Mouth Is But Profane.

They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis A Lie, I Am Not Ague-proof.

Enough No More; Tis Not So Sweet Now As It Was Before.

Twelfth Night Important

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

I Do Not Set My Life At A Pin's Fee, And For My Soul, What Can It Do To That, Being A Thing Immortal As Itself?

Hamlet And Ophelia

If Thou Couldst, Doctor, Cast The Water Of My Land, Find Her Disease, And Purge It To A Sound And Pristine Health, I Would Applaud Thee To The Very Echo, That Should Applaud You Again.

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

Oppose Not Rage While Rage Is In Its Force, But Give It Way A While And Let It Waste.

You Are Made Rather To Wonder At The Things You Hear Than To Work Any.

My Wits Begin To Turn.

By Heaven, I Do Love: And It Hath Taught Me To Rhyme, And To Be Mekancholy.

By God, I Cannot Flatter, I Do Defy The Tongues Of Soothers! But A Braver Place In My Heart's Love Hath No Man Than Yourself. Nay, Task Me To My Word; Approve Me, Lord.

If I Had My Mouth, I Would Bite; If I Had My Liberty, I Would Do My Liking. In The Meantime, Let Me Be That I Am, And Seek Not Toalter Me.

Love Thyself Last, Cherish Those Hearts That Hate Thee; Corruption Wins Not More Than Honesty.

In Jest, There Is Truth.

That Man That Hath A Tongue, I Say Is No Man, If With His Tongue He Cannot Win A Woman.

Why, I' Faith, Methinks She's Too Low For A High Praise, Too Brown For A Fair Praise And Too Little For A Great Praise: Only This Commendation I Can Afford Her, That Were She Other Than She Is, She Were Unhandsome; And Being No Other But As She Is, I Do Not Like Her. (benedick, From Much Ado About Nothing)

Thus Did I Keep My Person Fresh And New, My Presence, Like A Robe Pontifical, Ne'er Seen But Wondered At, And So My State, Seldom But Sumptuous, Showed Like A Feast.

Ignorance Is The Curse Of God; Knowledge Is The Wing Wherewith We Fly To Heaven.

Obey Thy Parents, Keep Thy Word Justly; Swear Not; Commit Not With Man's Sworn Spouse; Set Not Thy Sweet Heart On Proud Array. * * * Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Pen From Lenders' Books.

'tis Best To Weigh The Enemy More Mighty Than He Seems.

For We, Which Now Behold These Present Days, Have Eyes To Wonder, But Lack Tongues To Praise.

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

Who Could Refrain That Had A Heart To Love And In That Heart Courage To Make Love Known?

Lay Not That Flattering Unction To Your Soul, That Not Your Trespass But My Madness Speaks.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

I Came, Saw, And Overcame.

Drink Down All Unkindness.

There's Never A Villain Dwelling In All Denmark But He's An Arrant Knave.

Charity Itself Fulfills The Law. And Who Can Sever Love From Charity?

All The World's A Stage.

No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My Account With All My Imperfections On My Head.

Neither A Borrower Nor A Lender Be, For Loan Oft Loses Both Itself And Friend, And Borrowing Dulls The Edge Of Husbandry.

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

Demetrius: Villain, What Hast Thou Done? Aaron: That Which Thou Canst Not Undo. Chiron: Thou Hast Undone Our Mother. Aaron: Villain, I Have Done Thy Mother.

I'll Note You In My Book Of Memory.

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

I Have Heard Of Your Paintings Too, Well Enough; God Has Given You One Face, And You Make Yourselves Another: You Jig, You Amble, And You Lisp, And Nick-name God's Creatures, And Make Your Wantonness Your Ignorance. Go To, I'll No More On't; It Hath Made Me Mad.

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

I Say There Is No Darkness But Ignorance.

Nothing Teems But Hateful Docks, Rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burs, Losing Both Beauty And Utility.

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get. I To The World Am Like A Drop Of Water That In The Ocean Seeks Another Drop, Who, Falling There To Find His Fellow Forth, Unseen, Inquisitive, Confounds Himself: So I, To Find A Mother And A Brother, In Quest Of Them, Unhappy, Lose Myself.

Hell Is Empty And All The Devils Are Here.

Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

Eternity Was In Our Lips And Eyes, Bliss In Our Brows' Bent; None Our Parts So Poor But Was A Race Of Heaven.

Come, Seeling Night, Scarf Up The Tender Eye Of Pitiful Day, And With Thy Bloody And Invisible Hand Cancel And Tear To Pieces That Great Bond Which Keeps Me Pale. Light Thickens, And The Crow Makes Wing To Th' Rooky Wood. Good Things Of Day Begin To Droop And Drowse, While Night's Black Agents To Their Prey Do Rouse.

Report Of Fashions In Proud Italy Whose Manners Still Our Tardy-apish Nation Limps After In Base Imitation

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

He's Of The Colour Of The Nutmeg. And Of The Heat Of The Ginger.... He Is Pure Air And Fire; And The Dull Elements Of Earth And Water Never Appear In Him, But Only In Patient Stillness While His Rider Mounts Him; He Is Indeed A Horse, And All Other Jades You May Call Beasts.

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

Join Not With Grief, Fair Woman, Do Not So, To Make My End Too Sudden.

The Fringed Curtains Of Thine Eye Advance, And Say What Thou Seest Yond.

Gonzalo From Tempest

Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

We Cannot All Be Masters.

I See You Stand Like Greyhounds In The Slips, Straining Upon The Start. The Game's Afoot; Follow Your Spirit: And Upon This Charge, Cry — God For Harry! England And Saint George!

I Will Speak Daggers To Her, But Use None.

Hamlet And Ophelia

Let Men Say We Be Men Of Good Government, Being Governed, As The Sea Is, By Our Noble And Chaste Mistress The Moon, Under Whose Countenance We Steal.

A Cup Of Hot Wine With Not A Drop Of Allaying Tiber In 't.

A Young Man Married Is A Man That's Marred.

Nor Aught So Good But Strained From That Fair Use, Revolts From True Birth Stumbling On Abuse.

When I Have Seen By Time's Fell Hand Defaced The Rich Proud Cost Of Outworn Buried Age; When Sometime Lofty Towers I See Down-razed And Brass Eternal Slave To Mortal Rage; When I Have Seen The Hungry Ocean Gain Advantage On The Kingdom Of The Shore, And The Firm Soil Win Of The Watery Main, Increasing Store With Loss And Loss With Store; When I Have Seen Such Interchange Of State, Or State Itself Confounded To Decay; Ruin Hath Taught Me Thus To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

Gently To Hear, Kindly To Judge.

Thou Hast Not Half That Power To Do Me Harm As I Have To Be Hurt.

Is She Not Passing Fair?

I Have A Kind Soul That Would Give You Thanks. And Knows Not How To Do It But With Tears.

The Empty Vessel Makes The Loudest Sound.

There Is Flattery In Friendship.

You Cannot Make Gross Sins Look Clear: To Revenge Is No Valour, But To Bear.

Dirty Days Hath September April June And November From January Up To May The Rain It Raineth Every Day All The Rest Have Thirty-one Without A Blessed Gleam Of Sun And If Any Of Them Had Two-and-thirty They'd Be Just As Wet And Twice As Dirty." "april Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Everything.

Tis Now The Very Witching Time Of Night, When Churchyards Yawn And Hell Itself Breathes Out Contagion To This World.

Denmark In Hamlet

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

He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next.

And How His Audit Stands Who Knows, Save Heaven?

Virtue And Genuine Graces In Themselves Speak What No Words Can Utter.

Lay Her I' The Earth: And From Her Fair And Unpolluted Flesh May Violets Spring! I Tell Thee, Churlish Priest, A Ministering Angel Shall My Sister Be, When Thou Liest Howling. Hamlet. What, The Fair Ophelia! Queen Gertrude. Sweets To The Sweet: Farewell!

Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadow's Bliss.

This Is The Third Time; I Hope Good Luck Lies In Odd Numbers. Away; Go. They Say There Is Divinity In Odd Numbers, Either In Nativity, Chance, Or Death.

We Will Meet; And There We May Rehearse Most Obscenely And Courageously.

Where Art Thou, Muse, That Thou Forget'st So Long / To Speak Of That Which Gives Thee All Thy Might?

To Fear The Foe, Since Fear Oppresseth Strength, Gives, In Your Weakness, Strength Unto Your Foe, And So Your Follies Fight Against Yourself. Fear, And Be Slain--so Worse Can Come To Fight; And Fight And Die Is Death Destroying Death, Where Fearing Dying Pays Death Servile Breath.

Honor, Riches, Marriage-blessing Long Continuance, And Increasing, Hourly Joys Be Still Upon You!

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

The Lily I Condemned For Thy Hand, And Buds Of Marjoram Had Stol'n Thy Hair: The Roses Fearfully On Thorns Did Stand, One Blushing Shame, Another White Despair; A Third, Nor Red Nor White, Had Stol'n Of Both And To His Robbery Had Annex'd Thy Breath; But, For His Theft, In Pride Of All His Growth A Vengeful Canker Eat Him Up To Death. More Flowers I Noted, Yet I None Could See But Sweet Or Colour It Had Stol'n From Thee.

Who Finds The Heifer Dead And Bleeding Fresh And Sees Fast-by A Butcher With An Axe, But Will Suspect 'twas He That Made The Slaughter?

Never Anger Made Good Guard For Itself.

Fight Valiantly To-day; And Yet I Do Thee Wrong To Mind Thee Of It, For Thou Art Framed Of The Firm Truth Of Valor.

All The World Is A Stage And We Are Merely Players.

Speak To Me As To Thy Thinkings, As Thou Dost Ruminate, And Give Thy Worst Of Thoughts The Worst Of Words.

Indeed, Sir, He That Sleeps Feels Not The Toothache; But A Man That Were To Sleep Your Sleep, And A Hangman To Help Him To Bed, I Think He Would Change Places With His Officer; For Look You, Sir, You Know Not Which Way You Shall Go.

Farewell! Thou Art Too Dear For My Possessing.

It Is Great Sin To Swear Unto A Sin, But Greater Sin To Keep A Sinful Oath.

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

For In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

Now My Charms Are All O'erthrown, And What Strength I Have's Mine Own, Which Is Most Faint: Now, 'tis True, Or Sent To Naples. Let Me Not, Since I Have My Dukedom Got And Pardon 'd The Deceiver, Dwell In This Bare Island By Your Spell; I Must Be Here Confined By You, But Release Me From My Bands With The Help Of Your Good Hands: Gentle Breath Of Yours My Sails Must Fill, Or Else My Project Fails, Which Was To Please: Now I Want Spirits To Enforce, Art To Enchant, And My Ending Is Despair, Unless I Be Relieved By Prayer, Which Pierces So, That It Assaults Mercy Itself, And Frees All Faults. As You From Crimes Would Pardon'd Be, Let Your Indulgence Set Me Free.

One Good Deed Dying Tongueless Slaughters A Thousand Waiting Upon That. Our Praises Are Our Wages.

Wishers Were Ever Fools.

Men Prize The Thing Ungained More Than It Is.

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight.

What Showers Arise, Blown With The Windy Tempest Of My Heart

O Ceremony, Show Me But Thy Worth? What Is Thy Soul Of Adoration? Art Thou Aught Else But Place, Degree, And Form, Creating Awe And Fear In Other Men?

What Say You To A Piece Of Beef And Mustard?

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By

Even Through The Hollow Eyes Of Death I Spy Life Peering.

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

Merchant Of Venice

Yet Nor The Lays Of Birds Nor The Sweet Smell Of Different Flowers In Odour And In Hue Could Make Me Any Summer's Story Tell, Or From Their Proud Lap Pluck Them Where They Grew; Nor Did I Wonder At The Lily's White, Nor Praise The Deep Vermilion In The Rose; They Were But Sweet, But Figures Of Delight, Drawn After You, You Pattern Of All Those.

Whether 'tis Nobler In The Mind To Suffer The Slings And Arrows Of Outrageous Fortune, Or To Take Arms Against A Sea Of Troubles, And By Opposing End Them?

In God's Name Cheerly On, Courageous Friends, To Reap The Harvest Of Perpetual Peace By This One Bloody Trial Of Sharp War.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.

The Earth, That Is Nature's Mother, Is Her Tomb.

After Life's Fitful Fever He Sleeps Well. Treason Has Done His Worst. Nor Steel Nor Poison, Malice Domestic, Foreign Levy, Nothing Can Touch Him Further.

Here Is A Rural Fellow That Will Not Be Denied Your Highness' Presence: He Brings You Figs.

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

I Am Sure, Though You Can Guess What Temperance Should Be, You Know Not What It Is.

Love Runs Away From Those Chasing Her, And Those Who Run Away, She Throws Herself On His Neck.

The Strawberry Grows Underneath The Nettle And Wholesome Berries Thrive And Ripen Best Neighbour'd By Fruit Of Baser Quality.

Beggar That I Am, I Am Even Poor In Thanks, But I Thank You; And Sure, Dear Friends, My Thanks Are Too Dear A Halfpenny.

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.

From You Have I Been Absent In The Spring, When Proud Pied April, Dressed In All His Trim, Hath Put A Spirit Of Youth In Every Thing.

I Love Thee So, That, Maugre All Thy Pride, Nor Wit Nor Reason Can My Passion Hide. Do Not Extort Thy Reasons From This Clause, For That I Woo, Thou Therefore Hast No Cause But Rather Reason Thus With Reason Fetter, Love Sought Is Good, But Given Unsought Better.

As Merry As The Day Is Long.

I Think Thy Horse Will Sooner Con An Oration Than Thou Learn A Prayer Without Book.

Men So Noble, However Faulty, Yet Should Find Respect For What They Have Been: 'tis A Cruelty To Load A Falling Man.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy That It Alone Is High Fantastical.

Twelfth Night Important

If I Be Waspish, Best Beware My Sting.

Let Not Our Babbling Dreams Affright Our Souls; Conscience Is But A Work That Cowards Use, Devised At First To Keep The Strong In Awe: Our Strong Arms Be Our Conscience, Swords Our Law!

We Make Trifles Of Terrors, Ensconcing Ourselves Into Seeming Knowledge, When We Should Submit Ourselves To An Unknown Fear.

O Father Abram, What These Christians Are, Whose Own Hard Dealing Teaches Them Suspect The Thoughts Of Others!

O, Let Me Kiss That Hand! King Lear: Let Me Wipe It First; It Smells Of Mortality.

What Wouldst Thou Do, Old Man? Think'st Thou That Duty Shall Have Dread To Speak When Power To Flattery Bows?

To Persist In Doing Wrong Extenuates Not The Wrong, But Makes It Much More Heavy.

The Love Of Wicked Men Converts To Fear; That Fear To Hate, And Hate Turns One Or Both To Worthy Danger And Deserved Death.

Against Ill Chances Men Are Ever Merry, But Heaviness Foreruns The Good Event.

See What A Ready Tongue Suspicion Hath!

O, That Our Fathers Would Applause Our Loves, To Seal Our Happiness With Hteir Consents!

We Must Follow, Not Force Providence.

My Mistress' Eyes Are Nothing Like The Sun

O, My Offence Is Rank, It Smells To Heaven

Take Physic, Pomp; Expose Thyself To Feel What Wretches Feel, That Thou Mayst Shake The Superflux To Them And Show The Heavens More Just.

I Had Rather Be A Dog, And Bay The Moon, Than Such A Roman.

Your Face Is A Book, Where Men May Read Strange Matters.

Most Friendship Is Feigning, Most Loving Mere Folly.

A Thousand Moral Paintings I Can Show That Shall Demonstrate These Quick Blows Of Fortune's More Pregnantly Than Words.

I Cannot Draw A Cart, Nor Eat Dried Oats; If It Be Man's Work, I'll Do't.

Say, What Abridgement Have You For This Evening? What Masque, What Music? How Shall We Beguile The Lazy Time If Not With Some Delight?

To Be Slow In Words Is A Woman's Only Virtue.

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.

Do All Men Kill The Things They Do Not Love ............ The Quality Of Mercy Is Not Strain'd It Droppeth As The Gentle Rain From Heaven Upon The Place Beneath: It Is Twice Blest It Blesseth Him That Gives And Him That Takes

Think'st Thou I'd Make A Life Of Jealousy, To Follow Still The Changes Of The Moon With Fresh Suspicions? No; To Be Once In Doubt Is Once To Be Resolved.

Thine Eyes I Love, And They As Pitying Me, Knowing Thy Heart Torment Me With Disdain, Have Put On Black, And Loving Mourners Be, Looking With Pretty Ruth Upon My Pain.

O Thou That Dost Inhabit In My Breast, Leave Not The Mansion So Long Tenantless; Lest, Growing Ruinous, The Building Fall And Leave No Memory Of What It Was!

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth.

With These Shreds They Vented Their Complainings, Which Being Answered And A Petition Granted Them, A Strange One, To Break The Heart Of Generosity, And Make Bold Power Look Pale, They Threw Their Caps As They Would Hang Them On The Horns O' Th' Moon, Shouting Their Emulation.

There's Many A Man Hath More Hair Than Wit.

This Night I Hold An Old Accustomed Feast, Whereto I Have Invited Many A Guest, Such As I Love; And You Among The Store, One More, Most Welcome, Makes My Number More.

Captain Of Our Fairy Band, Helena Is Here At Hand, And The Youth, Mistook By Me, Pleading For A Lover's Fee. Shall We Their Fond Pageant See? Lord, What Fools These Mortals Be!

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