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Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

And this our life exempt from public haunt

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones and good in every thing.

As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The big round tears

Coursed one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase.

Ibid.

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

"Poor deer," quoth he, "thou makest a testament

To that which had too much."

Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens.

Ibid.

Ibid.

And He that doth the ravens feed

Yea, providently caters for the sparrow,
Be comfort to my age!

Act ii. Sc. 3.

For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood.
Therefore my age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, but kindly.

O good old man, how well in thee appears
The constant service of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion.

Travellers must be content.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act ii. Sc. 4.

Under the greenwood tree.

Act ii. Sc. 5.

I met a fool i' the forest,

A motley fool.

Act ii. Sc. 7.

And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms,

In good set terms.

As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

And then he drew a dial from his poke,

And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
Says very wisely, "It is ten o'clock:

Thus we may see," quoth he, "how the world wags."

Ibid.

And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe,

And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot;

And thereby hangs a tale.

Ibid.

My lungs began to crow like chanticleer,

That fools should be so deep-contemplative,

And I did laugh sans intermission

An hour by his dial.

Motley's the only wear.

If ladies be but young and fair,

They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed
With observation, the which he vents

Ibid.

Ibid.

In mangled forms.

Ibid.

I must have liberty

Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

To blow on whom I please.

Ibid.

The 'why' is plain as way to parish church.

Ibid.

If ever you have looked on better days,

If ever been where bells have knolled to church,
If ever sat at any good man's feast.

Ibid.

And wiped our eyes

Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered.

Ibid.

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.

As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Blow, blow, thou winter wind,

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude.

Ibid.

The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. Act iii. Sc. 2.

It goes much against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 2.

He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.

With bag and baggage.

Ibid.

Ibid.

O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that out of all hooping!

I do desire we may be better strangers.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops withal, and who he stands still withal.

Ibid.

Every one fault seeming monstrous till his fellowfault came to match it.

Neither rhyme nor reason.

I would the gods had made thee poetical.

Down on your knees,

Ibid.

Ibid.

Act iii. Sc. 3.

And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love.

Act iii. Sc. 5.

It is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness. Act iv. Sc. 1.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad.

Or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Very good orators, when they are out, they will spit.

As You Like It. Act iv. Sc. 1.

Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.

Too much of a good thing.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

For ever and a day.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.

Chewing the food1 of sweet and bitter fancy.

It is meat and drink to me.

I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways.

Ibid.

Act iv. Sc. 3.

Act v. Sc. 1.

Ibid.

No sooner met but they looked, no sooner looked but they loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason, no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.

Act v. Sc. 2.

How bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes!

Ibid.

An ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own. Act v. Sc. 4.

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The Retort Courteous; . . . the Quip Modest; the Reply Churlish; . . . the Reproof Valiant; the Countercheck Quarrelsome; . . . the Lie with Circumstance; the Lie Direct.

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Your If is the only peacemaker; much virtue in If.

Good wine needs no bush.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Epilogue.

1 'cud,' Dyce, Staunton.

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