MUSIC.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Let music sound while he doth make his choice;
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in music. That the comparison

M. V. v. 1.

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,
And wat'ry death-bed for him: He may win;
And what is music then? Then music is
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch; such it is,
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day,
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
And summon him to marriage.

M. V. iii. 2. Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing, after a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it,-and then let her consider.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sitting on a bank,

Weeping against the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury and my passion,
With its sweet air.

Cym. ii. 3.

M.V. v. 1.

T. i. 2.

'Tis good tho' music oft hath such a charm,

To make bad good; and good provoke to harm. M. M. iv. 1.

And it will discourse most eloquent music.

Preposterous ass! that never read so far,

To know the cause why music was ordain'd l
Was it not to refresh the mind of man,

H. iii. 2.

After his studies, or his usual pain?
Then give me leave to read philosophy,

And, while I pause, serve in your harmony.

T.S. iii. 1.

I'm never merry, when I hear sweet music.-
The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood:

If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound,

MUSIC,-continued.

Or any air of music touch their ears,

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet
Did fein that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature. M.V. v. 1.

The man that hath not music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.

M.V. v. 1.

T. G. iii. 2.

For Orpheus' lute was stung with poets' sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones;
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
If music be the food of love, play on,
Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.-
That strain again;-it had a dying fall:

O, it came o'er mine ear like the sweet south,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.

Once I sat upon a promontory,

And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back,
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song;
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid's music.

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
Unless some dull and favourable hand

T. N. i. 1.

M. N. ii. 2.

Will whisper music to my weary spirit. H. IV. PT. 11. iv. 4.

Then music, with her silver sound,

With speedy help doth lend redress.

R. J. iv. 5.

Tax not so bad a voice

M. A. ii. 3.

To slander music any more than once.

But, masters, here's money for you: and the general so likes your music, that he desires you, of all loves, to make no more noise with it.

Wilt thou have music? hark! Apollo plays,
And twenty caged nightingales do sing.
Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love. The music, ho!

O. iii. 1.

T. S. IND. 2.

A. C. ii. 5.

MUSIC,-continued.

I am advised to give her music o'mornings: they say it

will penetrate.

The choir,

With all the choicest music of the kingdom,

Together sung Te Deum.

MUSICIAN.

He plays o' th' viol-de-gambo.

MUSTERING.

Cym. ii. 3.

H. VIII. iv. 1.

T. N. i. 3.

Call forth your actors by the scroll. Masters, spread

yourselves.

MUTABILITY.

How chances mock,

And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors !

M. N. i. 2.

H. IV. PT. II. iii. 1.

To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bung-hole?

H. v. 1.

Imperious Cæsar, dead, and turn'd to clay,

Might stop a hole, to keep the wind away:

O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!

H. v. 1.

All things that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns, to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
This world is not for aye; nor 'tis not strange,
That even our love should with our fortunes change;
For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,
Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
Lord, we know what we are, but know not

may be!

MYSTERIES.

R. J. iv. 5.

H. iii. 2. what we H. iv. 5.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell?

MYSTERIOUS.

H. i. 5. K. L. i. 5.

It was not brought me, my lord, there's the cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the casement of my closet.

K. L. i. 2.

NAIADS.

N.

You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand'ring brooks,
With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmless looks,
Leave your crisp'd channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons.

NAME.

T. iv. 1.

Brutus and Cæsar: what should be in that Cæsar?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with them,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Cæsar.
Now in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,
That he is grown so great.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy,-
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet.

I do beseech you,

(Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,)
What is your name?

Romeo, doff thy name;

And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.

J. C. i. 2.

R. J. ii. 2.

T. iii. 1.

R. J. ii. 2.

Nature hath meal, and bran; contempt, and grace.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.

How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!

Cym. iv. 2.

T. C. iii. 3. Cym. iii. 3.

NATURE,-continued.

Nature, what things there are,
Most abject in regard, and dear in use!
What things again most dear in the esteem,
And poor in worth!

Labouring art can never ransom Nature
From her inaidable estate.

NATURAL PRODUCTIONS.

Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies

T.C. iii. 3.

A. W. ii. 1.

In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied:
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence, and med'cine power:

For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed foes encamp them still

In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will;
And, where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

R. J. ii. 3.

NECESSITY. NEED.

Necessity's sharp pinch.

K. L. ii. 4.

Teach thy necessity to reason thus ;
There is no virtue like necessity.

R. II. i. 3.

Where is this straw, my fellow?
The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious.

Necessity will make us all forsworn.

O, reason not the need: our basest beggars
Are in the poorest thing superfluous:
Allow not nature more than nature needs,
Man's life is cheap as beast's.

But, for true need,—

K. L. iii. 2.

L. L. i. 1.

K. L. ii. 4

You heavens, give me that patience: patience I need.

I am sworn brother, sweet,

K. L. ii. 4.

To grim Necessity; and he and I

Will keep a league till death.

R. II. v. 1