Lucentio that comes a wooing,-Priami, is my man Tranio,regia, bearing my port,-celsa senis, that we might beguile the old pantaloon.

Hortensio. Madam, my instrument's in tune. (Returning.) Bianca. Let's hear.-(HORTENSIO plays.)

O! fye, the treble jars.

Lucentio. Spit in the hole, man, and tune again.—Act 3. Sc. 1.

Hortensio. Kindness in woman, not their beauteous looks, Shall win my love :-Act 4. Sc. 2.

Katharina. I never saw a better-fashioned gown,

More quaint, more pleasing, nor more commendable;
Belike, you mean to make a puppet of me.

Petruchio. Why, true; he means to make a puppet of thee. Tailor. She says, your worship means to make a puppet of her.

Petruchio. O monstrous arrogance! Thou liest, thou thread,

Thou thimble,

Thou yard, three-quarters, half-yard, quarter, nail,
Thou flea, thou nit, thou winter cricket thou :-
Braved in mine own house with a skein of thread!
Away, thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant;
Or I shall so be-mete thee with thy yard,

As thou shalt think on prating whilst thou liv'st!
I tell thee, I, that thou hast marr'd her gown.-Sc. 3.
Petruchio. . . 'Tis the mind that makes the body rich;
And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds,

So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

What, is the jay more precious than the lark,

Because his feathers are more beautiful?

Or is the adder better than the eel,

Because his painted skin contents the eye ?—Id.

Katharina. Fye, fye! unknit that threat'ning, unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,

To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor :

It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads;
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds;
And in no sense is meet or amiable.

A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance: commits his body
To painful labour, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience ;-
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband:
And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul, contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am asham'd that women are so simple
To offer war, where they should kneel for
peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world;
But that our soft conditions and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you froward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great; my reason, haply, more,
To bandy word for word, and frown for frown:
But now I see our lances are but straws;

Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,-
That seeming to be most which we least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot;

And place your hands below your husband's foot:
In token of which duty, if he please,

My hand is ready, may it do him ease.-Act 5. Sc. 2.

Leontes. .

WINTER'S TALE.

There be in the cup

may

A spider steep'd, and one may drink; depart,
And yet partake no venom; for his knowledge
Is not infected: but if one present

The abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,

With violent hefts.-Act 2. Sc. 1.

Leontes. The shrug, the hum, or ha; these petty brands That calumny doth use.-Id.

Paulina. The silence often of

pure

innocence

Persuades, when speaking fails. Sc. 2.

Hermione.,

If powers divine

Behold our human actions (as they do),

I doubt not then, but innocence shall make
False accusation blush, and tyranny

Tremble at patience.-Act 3. Sc. 2.

Perdita. How often have I told you 'twould be thus ? How often said, my dignity would last

But till 'twere known?

Florizel.

It cannot fail, but by

The violation of my faith; and then

Let nature crush the sides o' the earth together,
And mar the seeds within!-Lift up thy looks:
From my succession wipe me, father! I

Am heir to my affection,

Camillo.

Be advis'd.

Florizel. I am; and by my fancy: if my reason
Will thereto be obedient, I have reason;

If not, my senses, better pleas'd with madness,
Do bid it welcome.

Camillo.

Florizel. So call it

:

This is desperate, sir.

but it does fulfil my vow;

I needs must think it honesty, Camillo,

Not for Bohemia, nor the pomp that may
Be thereat glean'd; for all the sun sees, or

The close earth wombs, or the profound seas hide
In unknown fathoms, will I break my oath

To this my fair belov'd.-Act 4. Sc. 3.

Autolycus. Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance :-How now, rusticks, whither are you bound?

Shepherd. To the palace, an' it like your worship.

Autolycus. Your affairs there? what? with whom? The condition of that fardel, the place of your dwelling, your names, your ages, of what having, breeding, and anything that is fitting to be known, discover.

Clown. We are but plain fellows, sir.

Autolycus. A lie; you are rough and hairy: let me have no lying; it becomes none but tradesmen, and they often give us

soldiers the lie: but we pay them for it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore they do not give us the lie.

Clown. Your worship had like to have given us one, if you had not taken yourself with the manner.

Shepherd. Are you a courtier, an 't like you, sir?

Autolycus. Whether it like me or no, I am a courtier. Seest thou not the air of the court in these enfoldings? hath not my gait in it the measure of the court? receives not thy nose court-odour from me? reflect I not on thy baseness court-contempt? Think'st thou, for that I insinuate, or toze from thee thy business, I am therefore no courtier ? I am courtier cap-a-pe; and one that will either push on, or pluck back thy business there: whereupon I command thee to open thy affair.-Id.

MACBETH.

Banquo. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has.

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Act 1. Sc. 3.

Of the imperial theme.—I thank you, gentlemen.—
This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good:-if ill,
Why hath it given me earnest of success,
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor:
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,
Against the use of nature? Present fears
Are less than horrible imaginings:

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes so my single state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,

But what is not.-Id.

Lady Macbeth.

It is too full o' the milk of human kindness,

Yet do I fear thy nature;

The raven himself is hoarse,

To catch the nearest way.-Sc. 5.

Lady Macbeth.

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan

Under my battlements. Come, come, you spirits

That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace
between
The effect and it! come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold! Hold!-Id.

сту,

Macbeth. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly: if the assassination

Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,—
We'd jump the life to come.-But in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor: This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other.-Sc. 7.