O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd:
She was a vixen when she went to school;
And, though she be but little, she is fierce.

7-iii. 2. 616

'Tis such fools as you, That make the world full of ill-favour'd children: 'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; And out of you she sees herself more proper, Than any of her lineaments can show her.

10-iii. 5. 617

She is too disdainful;
I know, her spirits are as coy and wild
As haggards of the rock.*

6-iii. 1.

618 Your face hath got five hundred pounds a-year; Yet sell your face for five-pence, and tis dear.

16-i. 1. 619


creeps ;
Her motion and her stationt are as one;
She shows a body rather than a life;
A statue, than a breather.

30-iii. 3. 620

I never yet saw man, How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured, But she would spell him backward; if fair-faced, She'd swear, the gentleman should be her sister; If black, why nature, drawing of an antic, Made a foul blot; if tall, a lance ill-headed; If low, an agate very vilely cut: If speaking, why, a vane blown with all winds; If silent, why a block, moved with none. So turns she every man the wrong side out; And never gives to truth and virtue that, Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. 6-iii. 1.

* A species of hawk.

t Standing.

621 I would, my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer.

6-i. 1.

622 You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all the yarn she spun, in Ulysses' absence, did but fill Ithaca full of moths.

28-i. 3. 623

Constant you are ;
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I well believe,
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know ;
And so far will I trust thee.

18–ii. 3..

624 If they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad.

6-ii. 1.

625 I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books. No: an he were, I would burn my study.

6-i. 1. 626

She cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, She is so self-endear'd.

6-iii. 1. 627

O thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.

37-iv. 2. 628 She is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty ; Neither regarding that she is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father. 2-iii. 1.

629 She is too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise : only this

commendation I can afford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome.

6-i. 1.

630 Let them anatomize her; see what breeds about her heart: Is there any cause in nature, that makes these hard hearts?

34-iii. 6.

631 Lady, you have a merry heart. . . . Yea, I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care.

ii. 1. 632

0, Dissembling courtesy ! How fine this tyrant, Can tickle where she wounds!

31-j. 2.

633 Her beauty and her brain go not together:* She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.f

31-i. 3.

634 Would I (being bat a moonish youth) grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing, and liking; proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every passion something, and for no passion truly any thing (as boys and women are the most part cattle of this colour); would now like him, now loath him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep for him, then spit at him.

10_iii. 2.

635 Come, an it were not for thy humoure, there is not a better wench in England.

19-ii. 1. 636

Whose warp'd looks proclaim What store her heart is made of.

34_iii. 6.

* Her beauty and sense are not equal.

† Anciently almost every sign had a motto, or some attempt at witticism, underneath it.

637 She puts her tongue a little in her heart, And chides with thinking.

37-ii. 1. 638

Who might be your mother, That you insult, exult, and all at once, Over the wretched ? What though you have more

beauty, (As, by my faith, I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed,) Must you be therefore proud and pitiless ?

10_iii. 5.

639 O, how hast thou with jealousy infected The sweetness of affiance !

20-ii. 2. 640 You are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended.

37-ii. 1.

641 What, my dear lady Disdain! are you yet living ?

i. 1. 642 Thou wilt never get thee a husband, if thou be so shrewd with thy tongue.

6-ii. 1.

643 She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star.

She would have made Hercules have turned spit; yea, and have cleft his club, to make the fire too.

6-ii. 1.

The tongues of mocking wenches are as keen
As is the razor's edge invisible,
Cutting a smaller hair than may be seen;
Above the sense of sense : so sensible

Seemeth their conference; their conceits have wings, Fleeter than arrows, bullets, wind, thought, swifter things.

8-v. 2.

645 God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another : you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance.

36—iii, 1.

646 I saw her hand ; she has a leathern hand, A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think, That her old gloves were on; but 'twas her hands ; She has a huswife's hand.

10-iy. 3.

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