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Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall, And by the doom of death end woes and all. / Merchant of Syracusa, plead no more; I am not partial to infringe our laws:
The Comedy of Errors
In sooth I know not why I am so sad, It wearies me. you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself.
The Merchant of Venice
I’ll pheeze you, in faith. / A pair of stocks, you rogue!
The Taming of the Shrew
I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina. / He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him.
Much Ado About Nothing
In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. / And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death anew; but I must attend his Majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.
All's Well that Ends Well
New Playes, and Maydenheads, are neare a kin, Much follow'd both, for both much mony g'yn, If they stand sound, and well: And a good Play (Whose modest Sceanes blush on his marriage day, And shake to loose his honour) is like hir That after holy Tye and first nights stir Yet still is Modestie, and still retaines More of the maid to sight, than Husbands paines;
The Two Noble Kinsmen
Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star-chamber matter of it: if he were twenty Sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.
The Merry Wives of Windsor
You do not meet a man but frowns; our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers Still seem as does the King's.
As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion,—bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness.
As You Like It
To sing a song that old was sung, From ashes ancient Gower is come; Assuming man’s infirmities, To glad your ear, and please your eyes. It hath been sung at festivals, On ember-eves and holy-ales;
Pericles, Prince of Tyre
Boatswain! / Here, master: what cheer? / Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, Live regist'red upon our brazen tombs, And then grace us in the disgrace of death; When, spite of cormorant devouring Time, Th' endeavour of this present breath may buy That honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, And make us heirs of all eternity.
Love's Labour's Lost
If Musicke be the food of Loue, play on, Giue me excesse of it: that surfetting, The appetite may sicken, and so dye. That straine agen, it had a dying fall:
Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour Draws on apace; four happy days bring in Another moon; but oh, methinks, how slow This old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, Like to a step-dame or a dowager, Long withering out a young man’s revenue.
A Midsummer Night's Dream
If you shall chance, Camillo, to visit Bohemia, on the like occasion whereon my services are now on foot, you shall see, as I have said, great difference betwixt our Bohemia and your Sicilia.
The Winter's Tale
Escalus. / My lord. / Of government the properties to unfold, Would seem in me to affect speech and discourse;
Measure for Measure
Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. Were’t not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour’d love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But since thou lovest, love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin.