Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

O good old man; how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed !
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
When none will sweat, but for promotion.

Act ii. Sc 3.

And railed on lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms.

And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says, very wisely, "It is ten o'clock.”

Act ii. Sc. 7.

"Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world

wags."

Act ii. Sc. 7.

"And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot, And thereby hangs a tale."

Act ii. Sc. 7.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer.

Motley's the only wear.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

If ladies be but young and fair,

They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed With observation,

Act ii. Sc. 7.

I must have liberty

Withal, as large a charter as the wind,
To blow on whom I please.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

The why is plain as way to parish church.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

All the world's a stage

And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts.
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;
Then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the jus

tice,

In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange, eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion;
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

The fair, the chaste, and unexpressive she.

Act iii. Sc. 2.

Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd ?

Act iii. Sc. 2.

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful, and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all whooping. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Every one fault seeming monstrous, till his fellow-fault came to match it. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Neither rhyme nor reason can express how

much.*

Act iii, Sc. 2.

Truly, I would the gods had made thee poetical.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

Down on your knees,

And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love.

Act iii. Sc. 5.

*See Spenser, ante, p. 30.

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, which, by often rumination, wraps me in a most humorous sad

ness.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

Very good orators, when they are out, they will

spit.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry, than experience to make me sad.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

Men have died from time to time, and worms

have eaten them, but not for love.

Act iv. Sc. 1.

No sooner met, but they looked; no sooner looked, but they loved; no sooner loved, but they sighed; no sooner sighed, but they asked one another the reason.

Act v. Sc. 2.

How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes !

An ill-favored thing, sir, but mine own.

Act v. Sc. 2.

Act v. Sc. 4.

The retort courteous; the Lie direct. Act v. Sc. 4.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If.

Good wine needs no bush.

Act v. Sc. 4.

Epilogue.

TAMING OF THE SHREW.

As Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece, And Peter Turf, and Henry Pimpernell;

And twenty more such names and men as these, Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Induction, Sc. 2,

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en;
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.

Act i. Sc. 1.

There is small choice in rotten apples. Act i. Sc. 1.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled;
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

Act v. Sc. 2.

* Othello; Act iii. Sc. 1. Merry Wives of Windsor; Act

i. Sc. 4. As You Like It; Act ii. Sc. 7.