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If it be true, that good wine needs no bush,* 'tis true that a good play needs no epilogue.
Epilogue-spoken by Rosalind.
ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.
It were all one,
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it.
Act I. Scene 1.
He must needs go, that the devil drives.
Act 1. Scene 3.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together. Act IV. Scene 3.
* Good wine needs no bush. This is an old proverb, derived from the custom once in use amongst wine-sellers of hanging a bush of ivy at their doors.
Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear. Act v.
COMEDY OF ERRORS.
Men, more divine, the masters of all these,
He must have a long spoon that must devil.
eat with the
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
Act 1. Scene I.
The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them.
What, can the devil speak true?
Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it.
Yet do I fear thy nature :
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.
If it were done, when 't is done, then 't were well
We still have judgment here;
But, in these cases,
that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself,
And falls on the other.*
I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
I dare do all that may become a man:
We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it;
* This celebrated soliloquy of Macbeth is given in its entirety, as it contains many quotations in frequent use. Macbeth is interrupted in it by the entrance of Lady Macbeth, and stops abruptly, as in the text above, to inquire, "How now, what news?"
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams,
That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead,
In restless ecstacy. Duncan is in his grave;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him further.
Act 111. Scene 2.
But now, I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns,
LADY MACBETH. You have displac'd the mirth,
broke the good meeting,
With most admir'd disorder.
Can such things be,