The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act read more

The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If read more

Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

All plumed like estridges that with the wind Baited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats, like images; read more

All plumed like estridges that with the wind Baited like eagles having lately bathed; Glittering in golden coats, like images; As full of spirit as the month of May, And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.

It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too read more

It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too common. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.

Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. read more

Tester I 'll have in pouch, when thou shalt lack, Base Phrygian Turk! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

No man's pie is freed From his ambitious finger. -King Henry VIII. Act i. Sc. 1.

Service is no heritage. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

Service is no heritage. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 3.

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.

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. read more

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction. -Twelfth Night. Act iii. Sc. 4.