And being seated, and domestick broils K. RICHARD III., A. 2, s. 4. LOCALITY OF BIRTH. I THINK, the sun, where he was born, OTHELLO, A. 3, s. 4. LOVE. O, Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,- They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; As true thou tell'st me, when I say—I love her; TROILUS AND Cressida, a. 1, s. 1. NAY, stay a little : LOVE. Were you but riding forth to air yourself, When Imogen is dead. LOVE. CYMBELINE, A. 1, s. 2. I SAW her coral lips to move, And with her breath she did perfume the air; Sacred, and sweet, was all I saw in her. TAMING OF THE SHREW, A. 1, s. 1. LOVE CONSTANT. Still betters what is done. WHAT you do, When you speak, sweet, I'd have you do it ever: when you sing, you A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do Nothing but that; move still, still so, and own No other function: Each your doing, So singular in each particular, Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds, That all your acts are queens. WINTER'S TALE, A. 4, s. 3. LOVE CONSTANT. MYSELF have often heard him say, and swear, That this his love was an eternal plant; Whereof the root was fix'd in virtue's ground, K. HENRY VI., PART III., A. 3, s. 3. LOVE EQUAL. HE says, he loves my daughter; I think so too: for never gaz'd the moon WINTER'S TALE, A. 4, s. 3. LOVE HEAVENLY. I BESEECH you, sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation; I Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears. CYMBELINE, A. 1, s. 2. LOVE IN CHAINS. PHEBE. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. SILVIA. It is to be all made of sighs and tears; It is to be all made of faith and service ; Р It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All humbleness, all patience, and impatience, AS YOU LIKE IT, A. 5, s. 2. LOVE IN FAIRY LAND. SET your heart at rest, The fairy land buys not the child of me. Would imitate; and sail upon the land, MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM, A. 2, s. 2. LOVE IN POWER AND COARSENESS. LOVE IN BEAUTY AND PURITY. DUKE. Get thee to yon' same sovereign cruelty : Tell her, my love, more noble than the world, Prizes not quantity of dirty lands; The parts that fortune hath bestow'd upon her, VIO. 'Sooth, but you must. Can bide the beating of so strong a passion VIO. DUKE. Ay, but I know,— What dost thou know? VIO. Too well what love women to men may owe: In faith, they are as true of heart as we. DUKE. And what's her history? VIO. A blank, my lord: She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i'the bud, |