rm,
How shall your houseless heads, and unfed sides,
Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these?

* * * * *

Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel.

Act iii. Sc. 4.

I'll talk a word with this same learned Theban.

Act iii. Sc. 6.

The little dogs and all,
Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me.

Act iv. Sc. 6.

Ay, every inch a king.

Act. iv. Sc. 6.

Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary,
to sweeten my imagination.

Act iv. Sc. 6.

Through tattered clothes small vices do appear;
Robes and furred gowns hide all.

Act v. Sc. 3.

The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices
Make instruments to plague us.

Act. v. Sc. 3.

Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.

* * * * *

ROMEO AND JULIET.

Act i. Sc. 1.

The weakest goes to the wall.

Act i. Sc. 2.

One fire burns out another's burning.
One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

Act i. Sc. 5.

Too early seen unknown, and known too late,

Act ii. Sc. 2.

He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

Act ii. Sc. 2.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Act ii. Sc. 2.

What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye,
Than twenty of their swords.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

At lover's perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

O swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Act ii. Sc. 2.

Good-night, good-night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good-night till it be morrow.

Act ii. Sc. 3.

Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears

Act ii. Sc. 4.

Stabbed with a white wench's black eye.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

I am the very pink of courtesy.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

My man's as true as steel.

Act ii, Sc. 6.

Here comes the lady;--O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.

Act iii. Sc, 1.

A plague o' both the houses!

Act iii. Sc. 1.

_Rom_. Courage, man I the hurt cannot be much.
_Mer_. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-do