2nji/Shakespeare_Corpus · Datasets at Fast360

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JULIET: Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
ANGELO: What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.
ANTIGONUS: I did not, sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, Can clear me in't.
VOLUMNIA: O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods Requite your love!
POLIXENES: For what?
BUCKINGHAM: Are all things fitting for that royal time?
COMINIUS: Go we to our tent: The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time It should be look'd to: come.
CORIOLANUS: Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, I crave their pardons: For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them Regard me as I do not flatter, and Therein behold themselves: I say again, In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd, By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that Which they have given to beggars.
JOHN OF GAUNT: Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, To stir against the butchers of his life! But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Second Murderer: Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his reputation. Come, shall we to this gear?
COMINIUS: The people are abused; set on. This paltering Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely I' the plain way of his merit.
MENENIUS: Either you must Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture To stale 't a little more.
Pursuivant: God save your lordship!
Third Servingman: Where's that?
Clown: I' the name of me--
NORFOLK: And I to Norfolk with my followers.
WARWICK: Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, Were brought me of your loss and his depart. I, then in London keeper of the king, Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, And very well appointed, as I thought, March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, Bearing the king in my behalf along; For by my scouts I was advertised That she was coming with a full intent To dash our late decree in parliament Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; Or whether 'twas report of her success; Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, Who thunders to his captives blood and death, I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, Their weapons like to lightning came and went; Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, Or like an idle thresher with a flail, Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, With promise of high pay and great rewards: But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, And we in them no hope to win the day; So that we fled; the king unto the queen; Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: For in the marches here we heard you were, Making another head to fight again.
Provost: I shall obey him.
GRUMIO: Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.
ROMEO: This gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
ROMEO: Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
ROMEO: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
TRANIO: O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound, Which runs himself and catches for his master.
HERMIONE: Verily! You put me off with limber vows; but I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily, You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily' 's As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' One of them you shall be.
SEBASTIAN: You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
CLAUDIO: Call it so.
Servant: Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry!
JULIET: Mutually.
KATHARINA: Yet you are wither'd.
WARWICK: Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry.
GONZALO: Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death.
DUKE VINCENTIO: This is no witness for Lord Angelo.
Second Senator: You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before You'll speak with Coriolanus.
KING HENRY VI: Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.
LADY ANNE: With all my heart; and much it joys me too, To see you are become so penitent. Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
Servant: Up.
MERCUTIO: Thou hast most kindly hit it.
MOPSA: It becomes thy oath full well, Thou to me thy secrets tell.
BRUTUS: Go not home.
GREMIO: Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.
PETRUCHIO: Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run, And not unluckily against the bias. But, soft! company is coming here. Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away? Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? Such war of white and red within her cheeks! What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty, As those two eyes become that heavenly face? Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee. Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.
CAMILLO: It is in mine authority to command The keys of all the posterns: please your highness To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.
Citizens: Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.
BAPTISTA: I'll after him, and see the event of this.
Clown: Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. Come, strike up!
GONZALO: I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.
BRUTUS: You speak o' the people, As if you were a god to punish, not A man of their infirmity.
HENRY PERCY: The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance.
VINCENTIO: What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to make merry withal?
KATHARINA: Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, And be it moon, or sun, or what you please: An if you please to call it a rush-candle, Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
GLOUCESTER: Here. Why dost thou spit at me?
ANTONIO: Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:-- And yet me thinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.
CAPULET: Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
KING EDWARD IV: Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall the same give pardon to a slave? My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was cruel death. Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? Who told me, when we both lay in the field Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his own garments, and gave himself, All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. But when your carters or your waiting-vassals Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I unjustly too, must grant it you But for my brother not a man would speak, Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all Have been beholding to him in his life; Yet none of you would once plead for his life. O God, I fear thy justice will take hold On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Oh, poor Clarence!
RUTLAND: I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?
GLOUCESTER: He lives that loves thee better than he could.
RICHARD: Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. 3 KING HENRY VI
KING LEWIS XI: Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?
Clown: Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter.
GLOUCESTER: More wonderful, when angels are so angry. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, By circumstance, but to acquit myself.
KING HENRY VI: An if he may, then am I lawful king; For Richard, in the view of many lords, Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
QUEEN MARGARET: Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
GREGORY: Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
LEONTES: It shall be possible. Swear by this sword Thou wilt perform my bidding.
Gardener: Hold thy peace: He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter, That seem'd in eating him to hold him up, Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke, I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
GLOUCESTER: Ah! and did they so?
A Player: I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.
DUKE VINCENTIO: He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice: yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I by my good leisure have discredited to him, and now is he resolved to die.
KING RICHARD III: Be eloquent in my behalf to her.
LUCIO: Good even. Friar, where's the provost?
First Watchman: Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd.
PETRUCHIO: What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.
CLAUDIO: Come, officer, away!
EDWARD: Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?
POMPEY: Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir; 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight to sit, have you not?
QUEEN ELIZABETH: O, cut my lace in sunder, that my pent heart May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon With this dead-killing news!
First Citizen: Soft! who comes here?
SICINIUS: This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying confusion.
Third Servingman: O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!
GREMIO: And so we will, provided that he win her.
ELBOW: He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.
Volsce: Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
VOLUMNIA: Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.
First Citizen: Give you good morrow, sir.
KING RICHARD II: He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. Discharge my followers: let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
KING EDWARD IV: Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?
BAPTISTA: Is he come?
SOMERSET: My liege, it is young Henry, earl of Richmond.
DUCHESS OF YORK: My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; I do lament the sickness of the king. As loath to lose him, not your father's death; It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.
Page: Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?
MENENIUS: I'll bring him to you. Let me desire your company: he must come, Or what is worst will follow.
VINCENTIO: Art thou his father?
GLOUCESTER:
MIRANDA: Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!
GLOUCESTER: Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?
ANGELO: I talk not of your soul: our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt.
Second Citizen: Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would fly?
FLORIZEL: How, Camillo, May this, almost a miracle, be done? That I may call thee something more than man And after that trust to thee.
HORTENSIO: Mistress, what cheer?

JULIET: Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?

ANGELO: What, resists he? Help him, Lucio.

ANTIGONUS: I did not, sir: These lords, my noble fellows, if they please, Can clear me in't.

VOLUMNIA: O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods Requite your love!

POLIXENES: For what?

BUCKINGHAM: Are all things fitting for that royal time?

COMINIUS: Go we to our tent: The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time It should be look'd to: come.

CORIOLANUS: Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, I crave their pardons: For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them Regard me as I do not flatter, and Therein behold themselves: I say again, In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, and scatter'd, By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that Which they have given to beggars.

JOHN OF GAUNT: Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, To stir against the butchers of his life! But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.

Second Murderer: Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his reputation. Come, shall we to this gear?

COMINIUS: The people are abused; set on. This paltering Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely I' the plain way of his merit.

MENENIUS: Either you must Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture To stale 't a little more.

Pursuivant: God save your lordship!

Third Servingman: Where's that?

Clown: I' the name of me--

NORFOLK: And I to Norfolk with my followers.

WARWICK: Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; And now, to add more measure to your woes, I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, Were brought me of your loss and his depart. I, then in London keeper of the king, Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, And very well appointed, as I thought, March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, Bearing the king in my behalf along; For by my scouts I was advertised That she was coming with a full intent To dash our late decree in parliament Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; Or whether 'twas report of her success; Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, Who thunders to his captives blood and death, I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, Their weapons like to lightning came and went; Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, Or like an idle thresher with a flail, Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, With promise of high pay and great rewards: But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, And we in them no hope to win the day; So that we fled; the king unto the queen; Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: For in the marches here we heard you were, Making another head to fight again.

Provost: I shall obey him.

GRUMIO: Thou, it seems, that calls for company to countenance her.

ROMEO: This gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!

ROMEO: Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

ROMEO: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

TRANIO: O, sir, Lucentio slipp'd me like his greyhound, Which runs himself and catches for his master.

HERMIONE: Verily! You put me off with limber vows; but I, Though you would seek to unsphere the stars with oaths, Should yet say 'Sir, no going.' Verily, You shall not go: a lady's 'Verily' 's As potent as a lord's. Will you go yet? Force me to keep you as a prisoner, Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you? My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread 'Verily,' One of them you shall be.

SEBASTIAN: You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

CLAUDIO: Call it so.

Servant: Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry!

JULIET: Mutually.

KATHARINA: Yet you are wither'd.

WARWICK: Farewell, sweet lords: let's meet at Coventry.

GONZALO: Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death.

DUKE VINCENTIO: This is no witness for Lord Angelo.

Second Senator: You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before You'll speak with Coriolanus.

KING HENRY VI: Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak.

LADY ANNE: With all my heart; and much it joys me too, To see you are become so penitent. Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.

Servant: Up.

MERCUTIO: Thou hast most kindly hit it.

MOPSA: It becomes thy oath full well, Thou to me thy secrets tell.

BRUTUS: Go not home.

GREMIO: Youngling, thou canst not love so dear as I.

PETRUCHIO: Well, forward, forward! thus the bowl should run, And not unluckily against the bias. But, soft! company is coming here. Good morrow, gentle mistress: where away? Tell me, sweet Kate, and tell me truly too, Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman? Such war of white and red within her cheeks! What stars do spangle heaven with such beauty, As those two eyes become that heavenly face? Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee. Sweet Kate, embrace her for her beauty's sake.

CAMILLO: It is in mine authority to command The keys of all the posterns: please your highness To take the urgent hour. Come, sir, away.

Citizens: Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak.

BAPTISTA: I'll after him, and see the event of this.

Clown: Not a word, a word; we stand upon our manners. Come, strike up!

GONZALO: I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.

BRUTUS: You speak o' the people, As if you were a god to punish, not A man of their infirmity.

HENRY PERCY: The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance.

VINCENTIO: What if a man bring him a hundred pound or two, to make merry withal?

KATHARINA: Forward, I pray, since we have come so far, And be it moon, or sun, or what you please: An if you please to call it a rush-candle, Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.

GLOUCESTER: Here. Why dost thou spit at me?

ANTONIO: Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:-- And yet me thinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.

CAPULET: Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

KING EDWARD IV: Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, And shall the same give pardon to a slave? My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was cruel death. Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? Who told me, when we both lay in the field Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his own garments, and gave himself, All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. But when your carters or your waiting-vassals Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced The precious image of our dear Redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; And I unjustly too, must grant it you But for my brother not a man would speak, Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all Have been beholding to him in his life; Yet none of you would once plead for his life. O God, I fear thy justice will take hold On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Oh, poor Clarence!

RUTLAND: I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me?

GLOUCESTER: He lives that loves thee better than he could.

RICHARD: Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. 3 KING HENRY VI

KING LEWIS XI: Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?

Clown: Alas, poor man! a million of beating may come to a great matter.

GLOUCESTER: More wonderful, when angels are so angry. Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

KING HENRY VI: An if he may, then am I lawful king; For Richard, in the view of many lords, Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, Whose heir my father was, and I am his.

QUEEN MARGARET: Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.

GREGORY: Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

LEONTES: It shall be possible. Swear by this sword Thou wilt perform my bidding.

Gardener: Hold thy peace: He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter, That seem'd in eating him to hold him up, Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke, I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.

GLOUCESTER: Ah! and did they so?

A Player: I think 'twas Soto that your honour means.

DUKE VINCENTIO: He professes to have received no sinister measure from his judge, but most willingly humbles himself to the determination of justice: yet had he framed to himself, by the instruction of his frailty, many deceiving promises of life; which I by my good leisure have discredited to him, and now is he resolved to die.

KING RICHARD III: Be eloquent in my behalf to her.

LUCIO: Good even. Friar, where's the provost?

First Watchman: Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd.

PETRUCHIO: What, with my tongue in your tail? nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman.

CLAUDIO: Come, officer, away!

EDWARD: Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns?

POMPEY: Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir; 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight to sit, have you not?

QUEEN ELIZABETH: O, cut my lace in sunder, that my pent heart May have some scope to beat, or else I swoon With this dead-killing news!

First Citizen: Soft! who comes here?

SICINIUS: This is a happier and more comely time Than when these fellows ran about the streets, Crying confusion.

Third Servingman: O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals!

GREMIO: And so we will, provided that he win her.

ELBOW: He must before the deputy, sir; he has given him warning: the deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.

Volsce: Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and hope to come upon them in the heat of their division.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.

VOLUMNIA: Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous approbation.

First Citizen: Give you good morrow, sir.

KING RICHARD II: He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. Discharge my followers: let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.

KING EDWARD IV: Now tell me, madam, do you love your children?

BAPTISTA: Is he come?

SOMERSET: My liege, it is young Henry, earl of Richmond.

DUCHESS OF YORK: My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; I do lament the sickness of the king. As loath to lose him, not your father's death; It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost.

Page: Here, noble lord: what is thy will with her?

MENENIUS: I'll bring him to you. Let me desire your company: he must come, Or what is worst will follow.

VINCENTIO: Art thou his father?

GLOUCESTER:

MIRANDA: Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!

GLOUCESTER: Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

ANGELO: I talk not of your soul: our compell'd sins Stand more for number than for accompt.

Second Citizen: Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would fly?

FLORIZEL: How, Camillo, May this, almost a miracle, be done? That I may call thee something more than man And after that trust to thee.

HORTENSIO: Mistress, what cheer?