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A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences. -Measure for Measure. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from read more

After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. -King Henry VIII. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.

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A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the read more

A mad fellow met me on the way and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets and pressed the dead bodies. No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I 'll not march through Coventry with them, that 's flat: nay, and the villains march wide betwixt the legs, as if they had gyves on; for indeed I had the most of them out of prison. There 's but a shirt and a half in all my company; and the half-shirt is two napkins tacked together and thrown over the shoulders like an herald's coat without sleeves. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.

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-Fer.

-Fer.

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Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

Praising what is lost Makes the remembrance dear. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act v. Sc. 3.

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Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

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This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. read more

This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

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O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! -The Merry Wives of read more

O, what a world of vile ill-favour'd faults Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 4.

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