And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, read more

And telling me, the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; And that it was great pity, so it was, This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, He would himself have been a soldier. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 3.

We have some salt of our youth in us. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 3.

We have some salt of our youth in us. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 3.

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.

I could have better spared a better man. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

I could have better spared a better man. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Young in limbs, in judgment old. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 7.

A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. read more

A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.

If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. read more

If the rascal have not given me medicines to make me love him, I 'll be hanged. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 2.

This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. read more

This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed read more

All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.