There can be no kernel in this light nut.-LAF. II., 5.

'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth ; but the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.-DIA. IV., 2.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherish'd by our virtues.—1 LORD, IV., 3.

Thou may'st see a sun shine and a hail in me at once : but to the brightest beams distracted clouds give way.--KING, V., 3.

W

We must do good against evil.-LAF. II., 5.

Which of them both is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense to make distinction.-Count. III., 4.

Who cannot be crushed with a plot ?-PAR. IV., 3.

We may pick a thousand sallads, ere we light on such another herb. --LAF. IV., 5.

We are old, and on our quick'st decrees the inaudible and noiseless foot of time steals ere we can effect them.-KING, V., 3.

King Richard the Second.

A

All places that the eye of heaven visits, are to a wise man ports and happy havens: teach thy necessity to reason thus; there is no virtue like necessity.-GAUNT. Act I., Scene 3.

All is uneven, and every thing is left at six and seven. -YORK, II., 2.

Awhile to work, and, after, holiday.--Boling. III., 1.

с

Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, where nothing lives, but crosses, care, and grief.-YORK,

2.

II.,

Come, come, in wooing sorrow, let's be brief, since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.-K. Rich. V., 1.

E

Each day still better other's happiness; until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, add an immortal title to your crown !-NOR. I., 1.

Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, which shew like grief itself, but are not so: for sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, divides one thing entire to many objects; like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon, shew nothing but confusion.--BUSHY, II., 2.

Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor, which, till my infant fortune comes to years, stands for my bounty.--BOLING. II., 3.

G

Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite the man that mocks at it, and sets it light.-GAUNT. I., 3.

н

How long a time lies in one little word! four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, end in a word ; Such is the breath of kings.-BOLING. I., 3.

a

Heaven hath a hand in these events; to whose high will we bound our calm contents.--YORK. V., 2.

How sour sweet music is, when time is broke, and no proportion kept !-K. Rich. V., 5.

I

I will despair, and be at emnity with cozening hope; he is a flatterer, a parasite, a keeper-back of death, who gently would dissolve the bands of life, which false hope lingers in extremity.-QUEEN, II., 2.

If angels fight, weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.-K. RICH. III., 2.

Is not the king's name forty thousand names ?-K. Rich. III., 2.

Is there no plot to rid the realm of this pernicious blot ?-AUM. IV., 1.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.K. Rich. V., 5.

L

Lions make leopards tame.-K. Rich. I., 1.

Let them go to ear the land that hath some hope to grow.-K. Rich. III., 2.

M
Men judge by the complexion of the sky

The state and inclination of the day :
So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.-

SCROOP. III., 2.

a

Must I ravel out my weavd-up follies :-K. Rich. IV., 1.

My grief lies all within; and these external manners of lament are merely shadows to the unseen grief, that swells with silence in the tortur'd soul; there lies the substance.-K. Rich. IV., 1.

N

Not all the water in the rough rude sea can wash the balm from an anointed king: the breath of worldly men cannot depose the deputy elected by the Lord.-K. Rich. III., 2.

Nothing can we call our own, but death; and that small model of the barren earth, which serves as paste and cover to our bones.-K. Rich. III., 2.

O, flattering glass, like to my followers in prosperity,

, thou dost beguile me!-K. Rich. IV., 1.

P

Pride must have a fall.-K. Rich. V., 5.

a

Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky, the uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.—BOLING. I., 1.

Sweet love, I see, changing his property, turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.-SCROOP, III., 2.

So two, together weeping, make one woe.-K. Rich. V., 1.

T

The purest treasure mortal times afford, is--spotless reputation; that away, men are but gilded loam, or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest is—a bold spirit in a loyal breast.-Nor. I., 1.

That which in mean men we entitle-patience, is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.-Duch. I., 2.

That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me ; and those his golden beams, to you here lent, shall point on me, and gild my banishment.-BOLING. II., 3.