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Jidsummer Night's Dream.


Awake the pert and nimble spirit of mirth ; turn melancholy forth to funerals, the pale companion is not for our pomp.-THE. Act I., Scene 1.

As a surfeit of the sweetest things
The deepest loathing to the stomach brings;
Or, as the heresies that men do leave,
Are hated most of those they did deceive.-

Lys. II., 3.

Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.-Lys. III., 2.


But earthlier happy is the rose distillid, than that, which, withering on the virgin thorn, grows, lives, and dies, in single blessedness. THE. I., 1.

By all the vows that ever men have broke, in number more than ever women spoke.--HER. I., 1.

Bootless speed! when cowardice pursues, and valour flies.—HEL. II., 2.


Dark night, that from the eye his function takes, the ear more quick of apprehension makes.—HER. III., 2.


His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered.-THE. V., 1.

I I woo'd thee with my sword, and won thy love, doing thee injuries ; but I will wed thee in another key, with pomp, with triumph, and with revelling: THE. I., 1.

If there were a sympathy in choice, war, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it; making it momentary as a sound, swift as a shadow, short as any dream; brief as the lightning in the collied night, that, in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth, and ere a man hath power to say,-Behold! the jaws of darkness do devour it up: so quick bright things come to confusion.--Lys.

I., 2.

I will aggravate my voice so, that I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove; I will roar you an 'twere any nightingale.-Bot. I., 2.

I am your spaniel ; and, Demetrius, the more you beat me, I will fawn on you.—HEL. II., 2.

It is not night, when I do see your face, therefore I think I am not in the night: nor doth this wood lack worlds of company; for you, in my respect, are all the world.--HEL. II., 2.

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lips and the nodding violet grows ;
Quite over-canopied with lush woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine.-

OBE. II., 1.

If you were men, as men you are in show, you would not use a gentle lady so.--HEL. III., 2.

I have a reasonable good ear in music : let us have the tongs and the bones. --Bot. IV., 1.

I love not to see wretchedness o'ercharged, and duty in his service perishing.--Hır. V., 1.


It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.-Lys. 1.

If we imagine no worse of them, than they of themselves, they may pass for excellent men.-The. V., 1.


Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.—HEL. I., 1.

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, such shaping fantasies, that apprehend more than cool reason ever comprehends.—THE. V., 1.

Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity, in least, speak most, to my capacity.--THE. V., 1.



Merry and tragical? Tedious and brief? That is, hot ice, and wonderous strange snow, how shall we find the concord of this discord ?-PHILOST. V., 1.


Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, and yonder shines Aurora's harbinger; at whose approach, ghosts, wandering here and there, troop home to church-yards.-Puck. III., 2.

Never any thing can be amiss, when simpleness and duty tender it.—THE. V., 1.


Since once I sat upon a promontory, and heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, that the rude sea grew civil at her song; and certain stars shot madly from their spheres to hear the sea-maid's music.-OBE. II., 2.

Scorn and derision never come in tears.-Lys. III., 2.

Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, steal me a while from mine own company.--HEL. III., 2.

Such tricks hath strong imagination ; that, if it would but apprehend some joy, it comprehends some bringer of that joy, or, in the night, imagining some fear, how easy is a bush supposed a bear --THE.


To you your father should be as a god; one that compos’d your beauties ; yea, and one to whom you are but as a form in wax, by him imprinted, and within his power to leave the figure, or disfigure it.-THE. I., 1.

The course of true love never did run smooth.-Lys. I., 1.

To-morrow night when Phæbe doth behold her silver visage in the wat'ry glass, decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass, &c., &c.-Lys. I., 1.

Things base and vile, holding no quantity, love can transpose to form and dignity.-HEL. I., 1.

That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. -Bot. I., 2.

The sun was not so true unto the day, as he to me. -HER. III., 2.

There is no following her in this fierce vein.--DEM.



This sport, well carried, shall be chronicled.—HEL. III., 2.

The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, are of imagination all compact.—THE. V., 1.

The iron tongue of midnight hath told twelve.—THE. V., 1.

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