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Anne better Biron Bohemia Boyet brother Caius call'd Camillo Clown Costard daughter doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Fair ladies Falstaff fame father fense fool Ford foul gentle gentleman give grace hand hast hath hear heart heav'n Herns the hunter honour Host humour i'th Illyria King Knight Lady look Lord Madam maid Malvolio marry master Brook master Doctor means Moth never numbers Orla Orlando Oxford Editor play Poet Pompey pr'ythee pray Princess Queen Quic Rosalind SCENE SCENE Shakespeare Shal shepherd shew Sicilia Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby Slen speak swear sweet tell thee Theobald there's thing thou art tongue true Warb Warburton wife woman word youth
Page 221 - A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it...
Page 31 - Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
Page 132 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
Page 299 - But nature makes that mean : so, over that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art Which does mend nature, change it rather, but The art itself is nature.
Page 400 - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is 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, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
Page 79 - But these are all lies : men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Page 32 - Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home, I was in a better place : but travellers must be content.
Page 26 - Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, The seasons...
Page 26 - The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,— This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.