All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All adoration, duty, and observance;
All humbleness, all patience, and impatience; All purity, all trial, all obeisance.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 2, l. [90]
’Tis like the howling of Irish wolves against the moon.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 2, l. [120]
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o’er the green cornfield did pass,
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie,
In the spring time, &c.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that a life was but a flower,
In the spring time, &c.
And therefore take the present time, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; For love is crownéd with the prime
In the spring time, &c.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 3, l. [18]
Here comes a pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 4, l. [36]
A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own: a poor humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else will. Rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a poor house, as your pearl in your foul oyster.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 4, l. [96]. (referring to the degrees of the lie.)
Your ‘if’ is the only peace-maker; much virtue in ‘if’.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 4, l. [108]
He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 4, l. [112]
If it be true that ‘good wine needs no bush’, ’tis true that a good play needs no epilogue.
‘As You Like It’ (1599) act 5, sc. 4, epilogue l. [3]
7.66.4 The Comedy of Errors
They brought one Pinch, a hungry, lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank,
A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller,
A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, A living-dead man.
‘The Comedy of Errors’ (1594) act 5, sc. 1, l. 238
7.66.5 Coriolanus
He’s a very dog to the commonalty.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 1, sc. 1, l. [29]
The kingly crownéd head, the vigilant eye, The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 1, sc. 1, l. [121]
What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues, That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, Make yourselves scabs?
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 1, sc. 1, l. [170]
They threw their caps
As they would hang them on the horns o’ the moon, Shouting their emulation.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 1, sc. 1, l. [218]
I am known to be...one that loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in’t.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 2, sc. 1, l. [52]
Bid them wash their faces, And keep their teeth clean.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 2, sc. 1, l. [65]
My gracious silence, hail!
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 2, sc. 1, l. [194]
Custom calls me to ’t:
What custom wills, in all things should we do’t, The dust on antique time would lie unswept, And mountainous error be too highly heaped For truth to o’erpeer.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 2, sc. 3, l. [124]
Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you His absolute ‘shall’?
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 3, sc. 1, l. 88
You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate As reek o’ the rotten fens, whose loves I prize As the dead carcases of unburied men
That do corrupt my air,—I banish you.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 3, sc. 3, l. 118
Despising,
For you, the city, thus I turn my back: There is a world elsewhere.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 3, sc. 3, l. 131
The beast
With many heads butts me away.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 4, sc. 1, l. 1
Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face Bears a command in’t; though thy tackle’s torn, Thou show’st a noble vessel. What’s thy name?
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 4, sc. 5, l. [66]
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it’s spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy: mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war’s a destroyer of men.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 4, sc. 5, l. [237]
I think he’ll be to Rome
As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it By sovereignty of nature.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 4, sc. 7, l. 33
I’ll never,
Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand As if a man were author of himself
And knew no other kin.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 34
Like a dull actor now,
I have forgot my part, and I am out, Even to a full disgrace.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 40
O! a kiss
Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip
Hath virgined it e’er since.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 44
Chaste as the icicle
That’s curdied by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian’s temple.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 65
The god of soldiers,
With the consent of supreme Jove, inform
Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove To shame unvulnerable, and stick i’ the wars
Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, And saving those that eye thee!
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 70
Thou hast never in thy life Showed thy dear mother any courtesy;
When she—poor hen! fond of no second brood— Has clucked thee to the wars, and safely home, Loaden with honour.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 3, l. 160
If you have writ your annals true, ’tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Fluttered your Volscians in Corioli:
Alone I did it.
‘Coriolanus’ (1608) act 5, sc. 5, l. 114
7.66.6 Cymbeline
If she be furnished with a mind so rare, She is alone the Arabian bird, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend! Arm me, audacity.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 1, sc. 6, l. 16
Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily, And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch! But kiss: one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,
How dearly they do’t! ’Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus; the flame of the taper Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure laced
With blue of heaven’s own tinct.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 2, sc. 2, l. 14
On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I’ the bottom of a cowslip.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 2, sc. 2, l. 37
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven’s gate sings, And Phoebus ’gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With everything that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise!
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 2, sc. 3, l. [22]
Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half-workers?
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 2, sc. 5, l. 1
I thought her
As chaste as unsunned snow.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 2, sc. 5, l. 12
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands As Neptune’s park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscalable, and roaring waters.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 1, l. 18
O, for a horse with wings!
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 2, l. [49]
What should we speak of
When we are old as you? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December, how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 3, l. 35
Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him: Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 4, l. [51]
Hath Britain all the sun that shines?
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 4, l. [139]
Weariness
Can snore upon the flint when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 3, sc. 6, l. 33
Great griefs, I see, medicine the less.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 4, sc. 2, l. 243
Though mean and mighty rotting Together, have one dust, yet reverence—
That angel of the world—doth make distinction Of place ’tween high and low.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 4, sc. 2, l. 246
Thersites’ body is as good as Ajax’ When neither are alive.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 4, sc. 2, l. 252
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun, Nor the furious winter’s rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta’en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great, Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke: Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Nothing ill come near thee! Quiet consummation have:
And renowned be thy grave!
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 4, sc. 2, l. 258
Every good servant does not all commands.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 5, sc. 1, l. 6
He that sleeps feels not the toothache.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 5, sc. 4, l. [176]
He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, And she alone were cold.
‘Cymbeline’ (1609-10) act 5, sc. 5, l. 181
7.66.7 Hamlet
You come most carefully upon your hour.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 6
For this relief much thanks; ’tis bitter cold And I am sick at heart.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 8
Not a mouse stirring.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 10
Bernardo: What! is Horatio there? Horatio: A piece of him.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 19
What! has this thing appeared again to-night?
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 21
Look, where it comes again!
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 40
But in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 68
This sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 77
In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 113
I’ll cross it, though it blast me.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 127
And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 148
It faded on the crowing of the cock.
Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is the time.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 157
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 166
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death The memory be green...
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,...
Have we, as ’twere with a defeated joy, With one auspicious and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
Taken to wife.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 1
The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the brain, Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 47
A little more than kin, and less than kind.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 65
Not so, my lord; I am too much i’ the sun.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 67
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 68
Queen: Thou know’st ’tis common; all that live must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
Hamlet: Ay, madam, it is common.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 72
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 suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected ’haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly; these indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 76
But to persever
In obstinate condolement is a course
Of impious stubbornness; ’tis unmanly grief; It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 92
Hamlet: I shall in all my best obey you, madam. King: Why, ’tis a loving and a fair reply.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 120
O! that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew;
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon ’gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world. Fie on’t! O fie! ’tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month,
Let me not think on’t: Frailty, thy name is woman! A little month; or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father’s body, Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she,—
O God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourned longer,—married with mine uncle, My father’s brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 129
It is not, nor it cannot come to good;
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 158
A truant disposition, good my lord.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 169
We’ll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 175
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven Ere I had ever seen that day, Horatio!
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 180
He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 187
In the dead vast and middle of the night.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 198
These hands are not more like.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 212
But answer made it none.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 215
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 231
While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 237
Hamlet: His beard was grizzléd, no? Horatio: It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silvered.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 239
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 249
All is not well;
I doubt some foul play.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 254
Foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.
‘Hamlet’ (1601) act 1, sc. 2, l. 256
And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire.
