Hippolyta. I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharg'd, And duty in his service perishing. Theseus. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see no such thing. Hippolyta. He says they can do nothing in this kind. Theseus. The kinder we, to give them thanks for nothing. Noble respect takes it in might, not merit. I read as much, as from the rattling tongue LOVE'S LABOUR LOST. King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live register'd upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant-devouring time, The endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, Therefore, brave conquerors!-for so you are, Still and contemplative in living art.-Act 1. Sc. 1. Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but bank 'rout quite the wits.—Id. Than wish a snow in May's new fangled show still, drum! for Assist me, some shall turn son Armado. Adieu, valour! rust, rapier! be your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. extemporal god of rhyme, for, I am sure, I neteer. Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. (Exit.)-Sc. 2. Princess. Good Lord Boyet, my beauty, though but mean, Needs not the painted flourish of your praise; Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye, Not uttered by base sale of chapmen's tongues.-Act 2. Sc. 1. Princess. Nay, never paint me now; Where fair is not, praise cannot mend the brow.-Act 4. Sc. 1. Princess. And, out of question, so it is sometimes; Glory grows guilty of detested crimes; When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part, We bend to that the working of the heart.-Id. Longaville. Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye ('Gainst which the world cannot hold argument), Persuade my heart to this false perjury? Vows, for thee broke, deserve not punishment.-Sc. 3. Sir Nathaniel. Your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange without heresy.-Act 5. Sc. 1. Holofernes. He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I abhor such phantastical phantasms, such unsociable and point-devise companions; such rackers of orthography.-Id. Princess. None are so surely caught, when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool: folly, in wisdom hatch'd Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of school; And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool.--Sc. 2. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief.—Id. Rosaline. A jest's propriety lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.-Id. Salanio. MERCHANT OF VENICE. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath form'd strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And others of such vinegar aspect, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Antonio. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano. And mine a sad one. Gratiano. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice I'll tell thee more of this another time: For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.-Id. Bassanio. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing more than any man in all Venice His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you have them, they are not worth the search.- Id. Portia. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree; such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good council the cripple.-Sc. 2. Antonio. An evil soul, producing holy "witness," Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; A goodly apple rotten at the heart; O! what a goodly outside falsehood hath.-Sc. 3. your Launcelot Gobbo. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me. It is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of son. Give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may, but in the end, truth will out.-Act 2. Sc. 2. Shylock. Fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.-Sc. 5. Prince of Morocco. . What have we here! A carrion death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll: I'll read the writing. "All that glisters is not gold, Often have you heard that told: Fare you well; your suit is cold." Cold, indeed; and labour lost : Then, farewell, heat; and welcome frost. Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.-Sc. 7. Prince of Arragon. Who shall go about To cozen fortune, and be honourable Without the stamp of merit! let none presume O! that estates, degrees, and offices, Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour From the true seed of honour! and how much honour Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times, Bassanio. The world is still deceived with ornament, To be the dowry of a second head, The scull that bred them, in the sepulchre. To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf The seeming truth which cunning times put on Portia. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, Such as I am: though, for myself alone, I would not be ambitious in my wish, To wish myself much better; yet, for you, A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times That only to stand high on your account, I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, |