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of the peace, if I see a sword out, my finger itches to make one: though we are justices, and doctors, and churchmen, Master Page, we have some salt of our youth in us; we are the sons of women, Master Page.

Page. 'Tis true, Master Shallow.--Sc. 3.

Anne Page. O, what a world of vile ill-favoured faults

Looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!-Act 3.

Sc. 4.

(A room in the Garter Inn. Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH.) Falstaff. Bardolph, I say,

Bardolph. Here, sir.

Falstaff. Go fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in't. (Exit BARDOLPH.) Have I lived to be carried in a basket, like a barrow of butcher's offal; and to be thrown into the Thames? Well, if I be served such another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out, and butter'd, and give them to a dog for a new year's gift. The, rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they would have drowned a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' the litter; and you may know by my size, that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking; I had been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and shallow; a death that I abhor, for the water swells a man; and what a thing should I have been, when I had been swelled! I should have been a mountain of mummy.-I marvel, I hear not of Master Brook; he sent me word to stay within; I like his money well. O! here he comes. (Enter FORD.)

Ford. Bless you, sir!

Falstaff. Now, Master Brook? you come to know what hath passed between me and Ford's wife?

Ford. That, indeed, sir John, is my business.

Falstaff Master Brook, I will not lie to you; I was at her house the hour she appointed me.

Ford. And how sped you, sir!

Falstaff. Very ill-favouredly, Master Brook.

Ford. How so, sir? Did she change her determination? Falstaff. No, Master Brook; but the peaking cornuto, her husband, Master Brook, dwelling in a continual 'larum of jealousy, comes me in the instant of our encounter, after we had embraced, kissed, protested, and, as it were, spoke the prologue of our comedy; and at his heels a rabble of his companions thither provoked and instigated by his distemper and, forsooth, to search his house for his wife's love.

Ford. What, while you were there ?
Falstaff. While I was there.

Ford. And did he search for you, and could not find you? Falstaff. You shall hear. As good luck would have it, comes in one mistress Page; gives intelligence of Ford's approach; and, by her invention, and Ford's wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.

Ford. A buck-basket?

Falstaff. Ay, a buck-basket; rammed me in with foul shirts and smocks, socks, foul stockings, and greasy napkins; that, master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villainous smell, that ever offended nostril.

Ford. And how long lay you there?

Falstaff. Nay, you shall hear, master Brook, what I have suffered to bring this woman to evil for your good. Being thus crammed in the basket, a couple of Ford's knaves, his hinds, were called forth by their mistress to carry me in the name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane: they took me on their shoulders; met the jealous knave their master in the door; who asked them once or twice what they had in their basket: I quaked for fear lest the lunatic knave would have searched it; but Fate, ordaining he should be a cuckold, held his hand. Well, on went he for a search, and away went I for foul clothes. But mark the sequel, master Brook: I suffered the pangs of three several deaths: first, an intolerable fright, to be detected with a jealous rotten bellwether: next, to be compassed like a good hilbo, in the circumference of a peck, hilt to point, heel to head: and then, to be stopped in, like a strong distillation, with stinking clothes that fretted in their own grease: think of that, a man of my kidney,—think of that; that am as subject to heat as butter; a man of continual dissolution and thaw; it was a miracle to 'scape suffocation. And in the height of this bath, when I was more than half stewed in grease, like a Dutch dish, to be thrown into the Thames, and cooled, glowing hot, in that surge, like a horseshoe; think of that;-hissing hot, think of that, master Brook.-Sc. 5.

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Evans. What is lapis, William ?

William. A stone.

Evans. And what is a stone, William ?

William. A pebble.

Evans. No, it is lapis; I pray you remember in your prain. -Act 4. Sc. 1.

(Enter FALSTAFF in women's clothes, led by Mrs. PAGE.) Mrs Page. Come, mother Prat, come, give me your hand. Ford. I'll prat her:--Out of my door, you witch! (beats

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him) you rag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon! out! out! I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. (Exit FALSTAFF.)

-Sc. 2.

(A Room in the Garter Inn. Enter Host and SIMPLE.) Host. What would'st thou have boor? What, thickskin? Speak, breathe, discuss; brief, short, quick, snap.-Sc. 5.

Falstaff. There was mine host, an old fat woman, even now with me; but she's gone.

Simple. Pray you, sir, was 't not the wise woman of Brentford ?

Falstaff Ay, marry, was it, muscle-shell; what would you with her?

Simple. My master, sir, my master Slender sent to her seeing her go through the streets, to know, sir, whether one Nym, sir, that beguiled him of a chain, had the chain, or no? Falstaff. I spake with the old woman about it. Simple. And what says she, I pray, sir?

Falstaff. Marry, she says, that the very same man that beguiled master Slender of his chain, cozened him of it.

Simple. I would I could have spoken with the woman herself; I had other things to have spoken with her too, from him. Falstaff. What are they? let us know.

Host. Ay, come; quick.

Simple, I may not conceal them, sir.

Falstaff. Conceal them, or thou diest.

Simple. Why, sir, they were nothing but about mistress Anne Page; to know if it were my master's fortune to have her, or no?

Falstaff. 'Tis, 'tis his fortune.

Simple. What, sir?

Falstaff. To have her or no; go, say the woman told me so. Simple. May I be so bold to say so, sir?

Falstaff. Ay, Sir Tyke; who more bold?

Simple. I thank your worship; I shall make my master glad with these tidings. (Exit SIMPLE.)

Host. Thou art clerkly, thou art clerkly, Sir John; was there a wise woman with thee?

and

Falstaff. Ay, that there was, mine host; one that hath taught me more wit than ever I learned before in my life; I paid nothing for it neither, but was paid for my learning.-id.

TWELFTH NIGHT.

Captain.

What great ones do,

The less will prattle of. Act 1, Sc. 2.

Clown. Cucullus non facit monachum. Sc. 5.

Malvolio. Madam, 'yond young fellow swears he will speak with you. I told him you were sick; he takes on him to understand so much, and therefore comes to speak with you: I told him you were asleep; he seems to have a foreknowledge of that too, and therefore comes to speak with you. What is to be said to him, lady ? he's fortified against any denial.

Olivia. Tell him, he shall not speak with me.

Malvolio. He has been told so: and he says he'll stand at your door like a sheriff's post, and be the supporter of a bench, but he'll speak with you.

Olivia. What kind of man is he?

Malvolio. Why, of mankind.

Olivia. What manner of man?

Malvolio. Of very ill manner; he'll speak with you, will

or no.

Olivia. Of what personage and years is he?

you,

Malvolio. Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a squash is before 'tis a peascod, or a codling when 'tis almost an apple: 'tis with him e'en standing water, between boy and man. He is well-favoured, and he speaks very shrewishly; one would think his mother's milk scarce out of him.-Id.

Sir Toby Belch to Malvolio. Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ?-Act 2, Sc. 3. Viola. Ay, but I know,— Duke. What dost thou know?

Viola. Too well what love women to men may owe:

In faith they are as true of heart as we,

My father had a daughter lov'd a man,

As it might be, perhaps, were I a woman,

I should your lordship.

Duke.

And what's her history?

Viola. A blank, my lord: she never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,

Feed on her damask cheek; she pin'd in thought;
And, with a green and yellow melancholy,

She sat like patience on a monument,

Smiling at grief.-Sc. 4.

Clown. A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward !-Act 3,

Sc. 1.

Viola. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool; And, to do that well, craves a kind of wit:

He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons and the time.—Id.

Olivia. O, what a deal of scorn looks beautiful
In the contempt and anger of his lip!

A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon
Than love that would seem hid: love's night is noon.—Id.

Duke.

MEASURE FOR MEASURE.

Did not go forth of us,

As if we had them not.

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Spirits are not finely touch'd,

But to fine issues.-Act 1, Sc. 1.

1st Gent. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary's!-Sc. 2.

Clown. Good counsellors lack no clients.-Id.
Claudio. As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope by the immoderate use
Turns to restraint: our natures do pursue,
(Like rats that ravine down their proper bane)
A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.--Sc. 3.
Claudio. . . In her youth

There is a prone and speechless dialect,

Such as moves men.-
.—Id.

Duke.

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Now, as fond fathers,

Having bound up the threat'ning twigs of birch,
Only to stick it in their children's sight,

For terror, not to use; in time the rod

Becomes more mock'd than fear'd; so our decrees,
Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead;
And liberty plucks justice by the nose;
The baby beats the nurse, and quite athwart
Goes all decorum.-Sc. 4.

Lucio..

Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt: Go to lord Angelo,
And let him learn to know, when maidens sue,
Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel,
All their petitions are as freely theirs,

As they themselves would owe them.--Sc. 5.

Angelo. We must not make a scarecrow of the law
Setting it up to fear the birds of prey,

And let it keep one shape till custom make it
Their perch, and not their terror.- Act 2, Sc. 1.

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