Imatges de pàgina
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MIRTH,-continued.

heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks, his tongue speaks.

Let me play the fool:

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.

I would entreat you rather to put on

Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose
merriment.

Had she been light like you,
Of such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit,
She might have been a grandam ere she died;
And so may you: for a light heart lives long.
Be large in mirth; anon, we'll drink a measure
The table round.

MISANTHROPY.

I am misanthropos, and hate mankind,
For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog,
That I might love thee something.

Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,
From high to low throughout, that whoso please
To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself.

MISCHIEF.

O mischief strangely thwarting!

M. A. iii. 2.

M. V. i. 1.

M.V. ii. 2.

L. L. v. 2.

M. iii. 4.

T. A. iv. 3.

T. A. v. 2.

[M. A. iii. 2 H. VIII. i. 1

R. J. v. 1.

Ah, ha!

H. VIII. i. 2.

As prone to mischief, as able to perform it.
O mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
Ha! what, so rank?
There's mischief in this man.

O, this is full of pity!-Sir, it calls,

I fear, too many curses on their heads,
That were the authors.

MISER, SICK.

Having no other pleasure of his gain
But torment, that it cannot ease his pain.

H. VIII. ii. 1.

Poems.

I can compare our rich misers to nothing so fitly as to a Whale; that plays and tumbles, driving the poor fry before him, and at last devours them all at a mouthful. Such whales I have heard of on land, who never leave gaping, till they have swallowed up a whole parish, church, steeple, bells, and all. P. P. ii. 1.

MISERY.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. T. ii. 2.
Misery makes sport to mock itself.

MISERY, APPEAL of.

O, let those cities, that of Plenty's cup
And her prosperities so largely taste,

With their superfluous riots, hear these tears!
MISFORTUNE.

My stars shine darkly over me.

R. II. ii. 1.

P. P. i. 4.

T. N. ii. 1. and smell A. W. v. 2.

I am now, Sir, muddied in fortune's moat,
somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
A most poor man, made tame by fortune's blows;
Who, by the art of known and feeling sorrows,
Am pregnant to good pity.

When we were happy, we had other names.

SOMETIMES BRINGS CONTENTMENT.
My long sickness

Of health and living, now begins to mend,

And nothing brings me all things.

MISNOMER.

K. L. iv. 6.

K. J. v. 4.

T.A. v. 2.

Benefactors? Well; what benefactors are they? are they not malefactors?

MISRULE.

M. M. ii. 1.

Beaten for loyalty,

Excited me to treason.

Cym. v. 5.

MISTAKE.

Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark for a bunting.

What a thrice double ass

Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool!

MISTRUST.

I hold it cowardice,

To rest mistrustful, where a noble heart
Hath pawn'd an open hand in sign of love.

A. W. ii. 5.

T. v. 1.

MOB (See also COMMOTION, POPULARITY.)
Here come the clusters.

H. VI. PT. III. iv. 2.

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The mutable, rank-scented many.

There's a trim rabble let in; Are all these
Your faithful friends o' the suburbs?

MOB,-continued.

They threw their caps

As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon,
Shouting their emulation.

C. i. 1.

He that will give good words to thee, will flatter
Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs,
That like nor peace, nor war? The one affrights you,
The other makes you proud. He that trusts you,
Where he should find you lions, finds you hares;
Where foxes, geese: You are no surer, no,
Than is the coal of fire upon the ice,

Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is,

To make him worthy, whose offence subdues him,
And curse that justice did it. Who deserves greatness,
Deserves your hate; and your affections are

A sick man's appetite, who desires most that

Which would increase his evil. He that depends
Upon your favours, swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust ye?
With every minute you do change a mind;
And call him noble, that was now your hate;
Him vile, that was your garland.

You are they

That made the air unwholesome, when you cast
Your stinking, greasy caps, in hooting at

C. i. 1.

Coriolanus' exile.

C. iv. 6.

What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.

C. i. 1.

You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
As reek o' the rotten fens; whose love I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air.

Mechanic slaves,

With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall
Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths,
Rank of gross diet, shall we be enclouded,
And fore'd to drink their vapour.

The fool multitude, that choose by show,
Not learning more than the fond doth teach;

eye

C. iii. 3.

A. C. v. 2.

Which prize not to the interior, but, like the martlet,
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and road of casualty.

M. V. ii. 9

The rabble should have first unroof'd the city,
Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time

MOB,-continued.

Win upon power, and throw forth greater themes
For insurrection's arguing.

The beast

With many heads butts me away.

You have made good work,

You, and your apron-men.

Hence; home, you idle creatures, get you home:
Is this a holiday? What! know you not,
Being mechanical, you ought not walk,
Upon a labouring day, without the sign

Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou?
I will not choose what many men desire,
Because I will not jump with common spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth,
As I can of those mysteries which heaven
Will not have earth to know.

C. i. 1.

C. iv. 1.

C. iv. 6.

M. V. ii. 9.

C. iv. 2.

They said they were an hungry, sigh'd forth proverbs;
That, hunger broke stone walls; that, dogs must eat;
That, meat was made for mouths; that, the gods sent not
Corn for the rich men only:-With these shreds
They vented their complainings.

Whose rage doth rend

Like interrupted waters, and o'erbear

What they are us'd to bear.

The shouting varletry.

This inundation of mistemper'd humour.

LEADER.

The horn and noise o' the monsters.

The tongues o' the common mouth.

The herdsman of the beastly plebeians.

MOCKERY.

By heaven, all dry-beaten with pure scoff.
But who dare tell her so? If I should speak,
She'd mock me into air; O, she would laugh me
Out of myself, press me to death with wit.
Therefore let Benedick, like cover'd fire,
Consume away in sighs, waste inwardly:
It were a better death than die with mocks;
Which is as bad as die with tickling.
Never did mockers waste more idle breath.
How my achievements mock me.

C. i. 1

C. iii. 1

A. C. v. 2.

K. J. v. 1.

C. iii. 1.

C. iii. 1.

C. ii. 1.

L. L. v. 2.

M. A. iii. 1.

M. N. iii. 2.

T.C. iv. 2.

MOCKERY,-continued.

A pestilence on him!-now will he be mocking. T.C. iv. 2.
To mock the expectation of the world. H. IV. PT. II. v. 2.
They do it but in mocking merriment;
And mock for mock is only my intent.

SOLEMN.

O, such a deed

As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul; and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words.

MODERATION.

Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop,
Not to out-sport discretion.

L. L. v. 2.

H. iii. 4.

O. ii. 3.

For aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing; it is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. M. V. i. 2.

What's amiss,

May it be gently heard: When we debate
Our trivial difference loud, we do commit

Murder in healing wounds: Thou, noble partner,
(The rather, for I earnestly beseech,)

Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms,
Nor curstness grow to the matter.

A. C. ii. 2.

MODESTY.

It is the witness still of excellency,

To put a strange face on his own perfection.

M. A. ii. 3.

Bashful sincerity and comely love.

M. A. iv. 1.

Can it be,

That modesty may more betray our sense

Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground enough,

Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,

And pitch our evils there?

Too modest are you;

More cruel to your good report, than grateful

To us that give you truly.

ITS INFLUENCE.

M. M. ii. 2.

C. i. 9.

I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty, that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in ; therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express myself. T. N. ii. 1.

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