One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

One out of suits with fortune. -As You Like It. Act i. Sc. 2.

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. read more

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

A good mouth-filling oath. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

A good mouth-filling oath. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he read more

Gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long. -King Richard II. Act iv. Sc. 1.

O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow read more

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 Phœbus in his strength,—a malady Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds, The flower-de-luce being one. -The Winter's Tale. Act iv. Sc. 4.

And sleep in dull cold marble. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

And sleep in dull cold marble. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender read more

Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours! There is betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again. -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That read more

Now you who rhyme, and I who rhyme,
Have not we sworn it, many a time,
That we no more our verse would scrawl,
For Shakespeare he had said it all!