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Mor. All that glisters is not gold ;'

Often have you heard that told ;
Many a man his life hath sold,
But
my

outside to behold,
Gilded worms do worms infold.—Act 2, Sc. 7.

Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy :

Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.+- Act 2, Sc. 9.

Shy. Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.-Act 3, Sc. I.

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Shy. A bankrupt, a prodigal who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto.--Act 3, Sc. I.

SONG,
Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head,
How begot, how nourished ?

Reply, reply.

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* Spenser in the “Faërie Queene,” II. viii. 14, wrote :

“Yet gold all is not that doth golden seeme. And George Herbert has, in his “ Jacula Prudentum,” “All is not gold that glisters.”

+ In Farquhar's “The Recruiting Officer,” Act 3, Sc. 2, Captain Brazen says: “Hanging and marriage, you know, go by destiny."

It is engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed ; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies.

Let us all ring fancy's knell !
I'll begin it,—Ding, dong, bell.

Act 3, Sc. 2.

Bass. The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.

In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being season’d with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil ? In religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple but assumes
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts:
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
Who, inward search’d, have livers white as milk;
And these assume but valour's excrement,
To render them redoubted !

-Act 3, Sc. 2.

Lau. When I shun Scylla your father, I fall into Charybdis your mother.-Act 3, Sc. 5.*

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Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd;

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes :
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;

* The origin of this phrase is found in the following extract from the works of Philip Gualtier, a poet of the thirteenth century:

“Inudis in Scyllam cupiens vitare Charybdim.”

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His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway ;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,

When mercy seasons justice.-Act 4, Sc. I.
Shy. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel.

Act 4, Sc. 1. Gra. Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. Act 4, Sc. I. Gra. A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel ! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.

Act 4, Sc. 1. Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that ;

You take my house, when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house ; you take my life,
When you do take the means whereby I live.

Act 4, Sc. I. Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied. Act 4, Sc. 1. Lor. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank !

Here' will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold :
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

Act 5, Sc. I. Lor. The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moy'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils.
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus :
Let no such man be trusted.– Act 5, Sc. I.

Por. How far that little candle throws his beams !
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Act 5, Sc. I.

Por. A substitute shines brightly as a king,

Until a king be by, and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters.-Act 5, Sc. I.

Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,

When neither is attended, and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season, season'd are,
To their right praise and true perfection !-Act 5, Sc.I.

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AS YOU LIKE IT.

Cel. Since the little wit, that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery, that wise men have, makes a great show.

Act I, Sc. 2.

Ros. O, how full of briars is this working-day world !

Act I, Sc. 3.

Duke S. Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head :
And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in every thing.

Act 2, Sc. i. Ami. Under the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me
And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather. -Act 2, Sc. 5.

Jaq. I can suck melancholy out of a song. -Act 2, Sc. 5.

Jaq. A fool, a fool ! I met a fool i' the forest,

A motley fool ; a miserable world !
As I do live by food, I met a fool ;
Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun,
And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms,
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool.

Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. "No, sir,' quoth he,
• Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune :'
And then he drew a dial from his poke,
And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, “It is ten o'clock:
Thus we may see,' quoth he, ‘how the world wags :
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine,
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven;
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.'* When I did hear

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* See “Taming of the Shrew,” Act 4, Sc. I. Grumio: "And thereby hangs a tale.” “Merry Wives of Windsor,” Act 1, Sc. 4. Quickly: “Well, thereby hangs a tale."

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