PARENTAL AFFECTION (See also AFFLICTION).

How sometimes nature will betray its folly,
Its tenderness, and make itself a pastime
To harder bosoms! Looking on the lines
Of my boy's face, methought I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech'd,
In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.

You have no children, butchers! if you had,

W.T. i. 2.

The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse.

Unreasonable creatures feed their young:

H.VI. PT. III. v. 5.

And though man's face be fearful to their eyes,
Yet in protection of their tender ones,

C. v. 3.

Who hath not seen them (even with those wings
Which sometimes they have us'd with fearful flight)
Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest,
Offering their own lives in their young's defence?
H.VI. PT. III. ii. 2.

PARLIAMENT.

God speed the parliament !

PARRYING.

H.VI. PT. 1. iii. 2,

Truly, madam, he holds Belzebub at the stave's end, as well as a man in his case may do.

T. N. v. 1.

Thou knowest my old ward ;—here I lay, and thus I bore my point. H. IV. PT. I. ii. 4.

PARTING.

Parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow.

For so long

As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits or stirs of his mind

Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
How swift his ship.

Farewell! the leisure and the fearful time

Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love,

And ample interchange of sweet discourse,

R. J. ii. 2.

Cym. i. 4

Which so long sunder'd friends should dwell upon;

FARTING,-continued.

God give us leisure for these rites of love!
Once more, adieu!

O, my lord,

R. III. v.3.

Must I then leave you? Must I needs forego
So good, so noble, and so true a master?
Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron,
With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord.
The king shall have my service; but my prayers,
For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life.

And even there, his eyes being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible,

H. VIII. iii. 2.

R. J. ii. 2.

He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.

M. V. ii. 8.

I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but
To look upon him; till the diminution

Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;
Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from
The smallness of a gnat, to air; and then
Have turn'd mine eye, and wept.

What! gone without a word?

Cym. i. 4.

Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;

For truth had better deeds than words, to grace it.

T.G. ii. 2.

We make woe wanton with this foul delay;
Once more, adieu! the rest let sorrow say.

R. II. v. 1

And whether we shall meet again, I know not.
Therefore, our everlasting farewell take :-
For ever, and for ever, farewell, Cassius!
If ever we do meet again, why we shall smile:
If not, why then this parting was well made.
Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow.

We two, that with so many thousand sighs

Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves

With the rude brevity and discharge of one.

Injurious time, now with a robber's haste,

Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not how ;
As many farewells as be stars in heaven,

With distinct breath and consign'd kisses to them,
He fumbles up into a loose adieu;

J.C. v. 1.

Cym. i. 2.

PARTING,-continued.

And scants us with a single famish'd kiss,
Distasted with the salt of broken tears.
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave.

At once, good night:-
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.

Come;

T.C. iv. 4.

M.V. ii. 7.

M. iii. 4.

A. C. i. 3.

Our separation so abides, and flies,
That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me,
And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee.
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit, that we shake hands and part;
You, as your business, and desire, shall point you :-
For every man hath business, and desire,
Such as it is,-and for mine own poor part,
Look you, I will go pray.

'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone:
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving jealous of his liberty.

Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness.
Wilt thou begone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree;
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him,
How I would think on him, at certain hours,
Such thoughts, and such; *

*

*

*

*

* or have charg'd him,

At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
T'encounter me with orisons; for then,

I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.

H. i. 5.

R. J. ii. 2.

T.G. ii. 2.

R. J. iii. 5.

Cym. i. 4.

PARTING,-continued.

Tend me to-night;

May be, it is the period of your duty;
Haply, you shall not see me more; or if,
A mangled shadow: perchance, to-morrow,
You'll serve another master. I look on you,

As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends;
I turn you not away; but, like a master,
Married to your good service, stay till death.

PARTY RANCOUR.

These days are dangerous!

Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,

And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand.

PASSION.

All the more it seeks to hide itself,

The bigger bulk it shows.

PASSIONS, CONFLICTING (See also EMOTIONS).

A. C. iv. 2.

H. VI. PT. II. iii. 1.

Thou think'st 'tis much that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so 'tis to thee;

But where the greater malady is fix'd,

The lesser is scarce felt. Thou'dst shun a bear:

But if thy flight lay towards the raging sea,

T. iii. 1.

Thou'dst meet a bear i' the mouth. When the mind's free,

The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind

Doth from my senses take all feeling else,

Save what beats there.

PASSIONS, GUILTY.

Poor chastity is rifled of her store,

And lust, the thief, far poorer than before.

PASTIME.

This will be pastime passing excellent
If it be husbanded with modesty.

K. L. iii. 4.

Poems.

T. S. IND. 1.

Say, what abridgment have you for this evening?
What mask? what music? How shall we beguile
The lazy time, if not with some delight?

Courtship, pleasant jest and courtesy,
As bombast, and as lining to the time.

PATCHING.

M. N. v. 1.

L. L. v. 2.

Any thing that's mended, is but patched: virtue, that transgresses, is but patched with sin; and sin, that amends is but patched with virtue. T. N. i. 5.

PATIENCE.

He, that would have a cake out of the wheat, must tarry the grinding.

T.C. i. I.

H.V. ii. 1.

Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.

How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; '
And wit depends on dilatory time.

Thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubim.

I do note,

That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.

Grow, patience!

O. ii. 3.

0. iv. 2.

Cym. iv. 2.

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
His perishing root, with the increasing vine.
Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
And study help from that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.

Cym. iv. 2.

T.G. iii. 1.

So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile;
We lose it not, so long as we can smile,

He bears the sentence well, that nothing bears
But the free comfort which from thence he hears:
But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow,

That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. O. i. 3.

Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.

T. N. ii. 5.

That which in mean men we entitle patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

R. II. i. 2.

O, gentle son,

Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper,
Sprinkle cool patience.

Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,
On the Rialto, you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances:

Still I have borne it with a patient shrug:
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.

H. ii. 4.

M.V. i. 3.

Patience, unmov'd, no marvel though she pause;
They can be meek that have no other cause.
A wretched soul, bruis'd with adversity,
We bid be quiet when we hear it cry;
But were we burthen'd with like weight of pain,
As much, or more, we should ourselves complain.

C. E. ii. 1.