Bartlette's Quotations: King John.

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1	Lord of thy presence and no land beside.	Act i. Sc. 1.
2	And if his name be George, I 'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names.	Ibid.
3	For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation.	Ibid.
4	Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth.	Ibid.
5	For courage mounteth with occasion.	Act ii. Sc. 1.
6	I would that I were low laid in my grave: I am not worth this coil that 's made for me.	Ibid.
7	Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door.	Ibid.
8	He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.	Ibid.
9	Talks as familiarly of roaring lions As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!	Ibid.
10	Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.	Sc. 2.
11	I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.	Act iii. Sc. 1.
12	Here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.	Ibid. 1
13	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.	Ibid.
14	Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.	Ibid.
15	That no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.	Ibid.
16	Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form.	Sc. 4.
17	Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.	Ibid.
18	When Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye.	Ibid.
19	And he that stands upon a slippery place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.	Ibid.
20	How now, foolish rheum!	Act iv. Sc. 1.
21	To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.	Sc. 2.
22	And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.	Ibid.
23	We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.	Ibid.
24	Make haste; the better foot before.	Ibid.
25	I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool, With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news.	Ibid.
26	Another lean unwashed artificer.	Ibid.
27	How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Make deeds ill done!	Ibid.
28	Mocking the air with colours idly spread.	Act v. Sc. 1.
29	'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.	Sc. 7.
30	Now my soul hath elbow-room.	Ibid.
31	This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.	Ibid.
32	Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.	Ibid.