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”Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands :
But he, that filches from me my good name,
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed. Othello, A. 3, S. 3.

IGNORAN C E. Ignorance itself is a plummet o'er me?: use me as you will. Merry Wives of Windsor, A. 5, S. 56

-If he have power, Then 'vail your ignorance? : if none, awake Your dangerous lenity. Coriolanus, A. 3, S. 1.

| L L L. • There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.

Tempeft, A, I, S. 2.

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IMAGE. If I had thought, the fight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you, (for the stone is

mine) I'd not have shew'd it'. Winter's Tale, A. 5, S. 3.

When he shall hear she dy'd upon his words,
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep
Into his study of imagination.

Much ado about nothing, A. 4, S. 1.
Princes have but their titles for their glories,
An outward honour for an inward toil;
And, for unfelt imaginations,
They often feel a world of restless cares,

Richard III. A. 1, S. 4. Alas, poor Yorick !—I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorr'd in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Hamlet, A. 5, S. I

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The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
Are of imagination all compact."

Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 1. The poet's eye in a fine frenzy rolling,

from heaven to earth, from earth to hea

ven; And, as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poets pen Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing A local habitation, and a name. ... Midsummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 1.

- How this grace (viewing a pi&ture) Speaks its own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip!' to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret ?. Timon of Athens, A. 1, S. 1.

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INGRATITUD E. In common worldly things, 'tis call'd-ungrateful With dull unwillingness to repay a debt, Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; Much more, to be thus opposite with heaven, For it requires the royal debt it lent you.

Richard III. A. 2, S. 2. And do you now put on your best attire? And do you now cull out a holiday ? And do you now strew flowers in his way, That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? . Run to your houses, fall upon your knees,

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