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Here's flowers for you ;
Hot lavender, mint, favoury, marjoram;
The marygold that goes to bed with th' sun,
And with him rises, weeping : These are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age.



Now, my fairest friend,
I would I had some flowers o'th' spring, that might
Become your time of day; and yours, and yours
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing; O Proserpina,
For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall
From Dis's waggon! daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty ; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes,
Or Cytherea's breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength (a malady
Most incident to maids ;) bold ox-lips, and
The crown imperial ; lilies of all kinds,
The fleur-de-lis being one, O, these I lack
To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend
To ftrew him o'er and o'er.


Sooth, when I was young,
And handed love as you do, I was wont
To load my she with knacks: I would have ransack'd
The pedlar's filken treasury, and have pour’d it
To her acceptance ; you have let him go,
And nothing marted with him. If your

Interpretation should abuse, and call this
Your lack of love or bounty ; you were ftraited
For a reply, at least, if you make care
Of happy holding her.

Ibid. A. 4. Sc. 3.

GLORY. Glory is like a circle in the water; Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself,

Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought.

King Henry VI. Part 1. A. 1. Sc. 6.


"Tis gold Which buys admittance, oft it doth; yea, makes Diana's rangers, false themselves, yield up Their deer to th' stand oth’ stealer : and 'tis gold, Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thief: Nay sometimes, hangs both thief and true man. What Can it not do, and undo?

Cymbeline, A. 2. Sc. 4.

How quickly Nature Falls to revolt when gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their fleep with thought, their brains with care, Their bones with industry; for this engrofled The canker'd heaps of itrange-atchieved gold ; For this they have been thoughtful to inveft Their fons with arty, and martial exercises : When, like the bee culling of every flower, Our thighs are pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey, We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees, Are murder'd for our pains.

Henry IV. Part II. A. 4. Sc. 2.

That light we see is burning in my hall;
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

The Merchant of Venice, A. 5. Sc. I.

A GOOD HEART. A speaker is but a prater, a rhyme is but a ballad ;--good leg will fall, a ftraight back will foop, a black beard will turn white, a curl'd pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow ;---but a good heart, Kate, is the sun and the moon, or rather the sun and not the moon; for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly.

Henry V. A. 5. Sc. 2.

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That man i' th’ world who shall report he has
A better wife, let him in nought be trusted,
For speaking false in that. Thou art alone,
If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness,
Thy meekness faint-like, wife-like government,
Obeying in commanding, and thy parts
Sov’reign and pious else, could speak thee out,
The queen of earthly queens. She's noble born;
And, like her true nobility, she has
Carried herself towards me.

King Henry VIII. A. 2. Sc. 7.

I have five hundred crowns,
The thrifty hire I sav'd under

your father,
Which I did store to be my fotter nurse
When service should in my old limbs lie lame,
And unregarded age in corners thrown.
Take that; and he that doth the ravens feed,
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age : here is the gold ;
All this I give you, let me be your servant.

As You Like It, A. 2. Sc. 3.
Let never day or night unhallow'd pass,
But still remember what the Lord hath done.

King Henry VI. Part II. A. 2. Sc. 2.

There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond ;
And do a wilful filness entertain,
With purpose to be drest in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark !
O, my Anthonio, I do know of those
That therefore only are reputed wife
For saying nothing ; who, I'm very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools

The Merchant of Venice, A 1. Sc. 1,


Great men have reaching hands : oft have I ftruck
Those that I never saw-and struck them dead.

Henry VI. Part II. A. 4. Sc. 7.
'Tis certain, Greatness once fall’n out with Fortune,
Must fall out with men too: What the decline is,
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others,
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Shew not their mealy wings but to the summer ;
And not a man, for being simply man,
Hath any honour, but honour by those honours
That are without him, as place, riches, favour,
Prizes of accident as oft as merit,
Which, when they fall (as being slippery ftanders),
The love that lean’d on them, as Nippery too,
Doth one pluck down another, and together
Die in the fall.

Troilus and Creffida, A. 3. Sc. 7. The soul and body rive not more in parting Than greatness going off. Ant. and Cleop. A. 4. Sc. 9.

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The Grecian youths are full of subtle quality ;
They 're loving, well compos'd, with gifts of Nature
Flowing, and swelling o'er with arts and exercise.
How novelties may move, and parts with person !
Alas! a kind of godiy jealousy,
Which I beseech you call a virtuous sin,
Makes me afraid. Troilus and Cresida, A. 4. Sc. 6.


Like the lily
That once was mistress of the field, and flourishid,
I'll hang my head and perish.

King Henry VIII. A. 3. Sc. 1.

I pray thee cease thy counsel,
Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a fieve; give not me counsel,
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear,
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father that so lov'd his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,


And bid him speak of patience;
Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for strain,
As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape, and form;
If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard,
And sorrow wag; cry hem! when he should groan;
Patch grief with proverbs ; make misfortune drank
With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.

Much Ado about Nothing, A. 5. Sc. I.
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

an hold it up: here I and sorrow fit: Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it.

King John, A. 3. Sc. 1, 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, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well; had you such loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do. Ibid. A. 3. 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 ; eyed awry, Distinguish form.

King Richard II. A. 2. Sc. 2. Seems, Madam! nay it is; I know not seems : 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy fufpiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitful River ja the eye,


Sc. 3:

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