Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels; and fly, like thought, from them to me again.-K. JOHN, IV., 2.

Be great in act, as you have been in thought; let not the world see fear, and sad distrust, govern the motion of a kingly eye.-BAST. V., 1.

C

Call for our chiefest men of discipline, to cull the plots of best advantages.-K. PHI. II., 1.

Courage mounteth with occasion.-AUST. II., 1.

F

Fierce extremes, in their continuance, will not feel themselves. Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, leaves them insensible.-P. HEN. V., 7.

G

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, remembers me of all his gracious parts.-CONST. III., 4.

H

He is the half part of a blessed man, left to be finished by such a she; and she a fair divided excellence, whose fulness of perfection lies in him. O, two such silver currents, when they join, do glorify the banks that bound them in.-1 CIT. II., 2.

Here's a large mouth, indeed, that spits forth death,

and mountains, rocks, and seas; talks as familiarly of roaring lions, as maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! -BAST. II., 2.

He gives the bastinado with his tongue; our ears are cudgel'd.—BAsT. II., 2.

He, that stands upon a slippery place, makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.-PAND. III., 4.

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, makes deeds ill done.-K. JOHN, IV., 2.

Happy he, whose cloak and cincture can hold out this tempest.-BAST. IV., 3.

His pure brain (which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,) doth, by the idle comments that it makes, foretel the ending of mortality.-P. HEN. V., 7.

I

I give you welcome with a powerless hand, but with a heart full of unstained love.-ARTH. II., 1.

It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim to these illtuned repetitions.-K. PHI. II., 1.

I was never so bethump'd with words, since I first call'd my brother's father, dad.—BAST. II., 2.

I trust we shall, if not fill up the measure of her will, yet in some measure satisfy her so, that we shall stop her exclamation.-K. JOHN, II., 2.

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud: for grief is

proud, and makes his owner stout. To me, and to the state of my great grief, let kings assemble, for my grief's so great, that no supporter but the huge firm earth can hold it up.-CONST. III., 1.

I had a thing to say,—but I will fit it with some better time.-K. JOHN, III., 3.

I defy all counsel, all redress, but that which ends all counsel, true redress, death, death.-CONST. III., 4.

I am not mad;-I would to heaven I were! for then, 'tis like I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget!-Preach some philosophy to make me mad, and thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal; for, being not mad, but sensible of grief, my reasonable part produces reason how I may be deliver'd of these woes, and teaches me to kill or hang myself.-CONST. III.,

4.

I must be brief; lest resolution drop out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.—HUB. IV., 1.

It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame, that greatness should so grossly offer it.-SAL. IV., 2.

If you be afeard to hear the worst, then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.-BAST. IV., 2.

I was amaz'd under the tide: but now I breathe again aloft the flood; and can give audience to any tongue, speak it of what it will.-K. JOHN, IV., 2.

It is the curse of kings, to be attended by slaves, that take their humours for a warrant to break within the

bloody house of life: and, on the winking of authority, to understand a law.-K. JOHN, IV., 2.

Impatience hath his privilege.-PEм. IV., 3.

I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep my date of life out, for his sweet life's loss.-HUB. IV., 3.

I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way among the thorns and dangers of this world.-BAST. IV., 3.

Inferior eyes, that borrow their behaviours from the great, grow great by your example, and put on the dauntless spirit of resolution.-Bast. V., 1.

I am not glad that such a sore of time should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt, and heal the inveterate canker of one wound, by making many.-SAL. V., 2.

I will, upon all hazards, well believe thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well.-HUB. V., 6.

I do not ask you much, I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, and so ingrateful, you deny me that.—K. JOHN, V., 7.

I have a kind soul, that would give you thanks, and knows not how to do it, but with tears.-P. HEN. V., 7.

L

Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.-K. PHI. III., 1.

Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; hold

ing the eternal spirit, against her will, in the vile prison of afflicted breath.-K. PHI. III., 4.

M

My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, being an ordinary inundation; but this effusion of such manly drops, this shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven figured quite o'er with burning meteors.-LEW. V., 2.

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, which holds but till thy news be utter'd; and then all this thou se'est is but a clod, and module of confounded royalty.-K. JOHN, V., 7.

N

Near or far off, well won is still well shot.-BAST. I., 1.

New-made honour doth forget men's names.-Bast. I., 1.

Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great: of nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast, and with the half-blown rose.-CONST. III., 1.

Now will canker sorrow eat my bud, and chase the native beauty from his cheek.-CONST. III., 4.

Now, for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty, doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, and snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace.-BAST. IV., 3.

Nought shall make us rue, if England to itself do rest but true.-BAST. V., 7.