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.

God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 2.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, In good set terms. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.

We are ready to try our fortunes To the last man. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 3.

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. read more

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand Open as day for melting charity. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 4.

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more

Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.

Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

Give me another horse: bind up my wounds. -King Richard III. Act v. Sc. 3.

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. read more

Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.