| 1 |
Or, having sworn too hard a keeping oath,
Study to break it and not break my troth.
| Act i. Sc. 1.
|
| 2 |
Light seeking light doth light of light beguile.
| Ibid.
|
| 3 |
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.
| Ibid.
|
| 4 |
At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;
But like of each thing that in season grows.
| Ibid.
|
| 5 |
A man in all the world's new fashion planted,
That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.
| Ibid.
|
| 6 |
A high hope for a low heaven.
| Ibid.
|
| 7 |
And men sit down to that nourishment which is called supper.
| Ibid.
|
| 8 |
That unlettered small-knowing soul.
| Ibid.
|
| 9 |
A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman.
| Ibid.
|
| 10 |
Affliction may one day smile again; and till then, sit thee down, sorrow!
| Ibid.
|
| 11 |
The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 't is not to be found.
| Sc. 2.
|
| 12 |
The rational hind Costard.
| Ibid.
|
| 13 |
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
| Ibid.
|
| 14 |
A man of sovereign parts he is esteem'd;
Well fitted in arts, glorious in arms:
Nothing becomes him ill that he would well.
| Act ii. Sc. 1.
|
| 15 |
A merrier man,
Within the limit of becoming mirth,
I never spent an hour's talk withal.
| Ibid.
|
| 16 |
Delivers in such apt and gracious words
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished;
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.
| Ibid.
|
| 17 |
By my penny of observation.
| Act iii. Sc. 1.
|
| 18 |
The boy hath sold him a bargain,--a goose.
| Ibid.
|
| 19 |
To sell a bargain well is as cunning as fast and loose.
| Ibid.
|
| 20 |
A very beadle to a humorous sigh.
| Ibid.
|
| 21 |
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid;
Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms,
The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans,
Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.
| Ibid.
|
| 22 |
A buck of the first head.
| Act iv. Sc. 2.
|
| 23 |
He hath never fed of the dainties that are bred in a book; he hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink.
| Ibid.
|
| 24 |
Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.
| Ibid.
|
| 25 |
You two are book-men.
| Ibid.
|
| 26 |
Dictynna, goodman Dull.
| Ibid.
|
| 27 |
These are begot in the ventricle of memory, nourished in the womb of pia mater, and delivered upon the mellowing of occasion.
| Ibid.
|
| 28 |
For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye?
Learning is but an adjunct to ourself.
| Sc. 3.
|
| 29 |
It adds a precious seeing to the eye.
| Ibid.
|
| 30 |
As sweet and musical
As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair;
And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods
Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
| Ibid.
|
| 31 |
From women's eyes this doctrine I derive:
They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.
| Ibid.
|
| 32 |
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
| Act v. Sc. 1.
|
| 33 |
Priscian! a little scratched, 't will serve.
| Ibid.
|
| 34 |
They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
| Ibid.
|
| 35 |
In the posteriors of this day, which the rude multitude call the afternoon.
| Ibid.
|
| 36 |
They have measured many a mile
To tread a measure with you on this grass.
| Sc. 2.
|
| 37 |
Let me take you a button-hole lower.
| Ibid.
|
| 38 |
I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion.
| Ibid.
|
| 39 |
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it.
| Ibid.
|
| 40 |
When daisies pied and violets blue,
And lady-smocks all silver-white,
And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue
Do paint the meadows with delight,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,
Mocks married men.
| Ibid.
|
| 41 |
The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.
| Ibid.
|