Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give read more

Small have continual plodders ever won Save base authority from others' books. These earthly godfathers of heaven's lights That give a name to every fixed star Have no more profit of their shining nights Than those that walk and wot not what they are. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 1.

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so. -The Two Gentleman read more

I have no other but a woman's reason: I think him so, because I think him so. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 2.

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and read more

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and so was he. But we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If. -As You Like It. Act v. Sc. 4.

More matter for a May morning. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

More matter for a May morning. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It read more

And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

That would hang us, every mother's son. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou read more

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.