Imatges de pàgina
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CURIOSITIES,-continued.

With the memorials and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

CURRENTS, MARITIME.

Like to the Pontic sea,

Whose icy current, and compulsive course
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic, and the Hellespont.

CURS.

T. N. iii. 3.

O. iii. 3.

O'tis a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should say, one that taketh upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. T.G. iv. 4.

When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it! I have taught him-even as one would say precisely,-Thus I would teach a dog. T.G. iv. 4.

CURSING.

I would the gods had nothing else to do,
But to confirm my curses!

CUSTOM (See also HABIT).

C. iv. 2.

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

Custom calls me to't:

What custom wills in all things should we do't;
The dust on antique time would lie unswept,
And mountainous error be too highly heap'd
For truth to overpeer.

Nice customs curt'sey to great kings.
Assume a virtue if you have it not,

That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this.

Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law
My services are bound. Wherefore should I
Stand in the plague of custom?

VILE.

Though I am native here,

And to the manner born,-it is a custom

H. v. 1.

C. ii. 3. H.V. v. 2.

H. iii. 4.

K. L. i. 2.

More honour'd in the breach than the observance. H. i. 4.

72

DAGGERS.

D.

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

DALLIANCE, UNSEASONABLE.

No, when light-wing'd toys

Of feather'd Cupid seel with wanton dullness
My speculative and active instruments,

That my disports corrupt and taint my business,
Let housewives make a skillet of my helm,
And all indign and base adversities

Make head against my estimation.

A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man

H. iii. 2.

O. i. 3.

In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
They think, my little stomach to the war,
And your great love to me, restrains you thus:
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to air.

DANGER.

There Monitaurs and ugly treason lurk.

T. C. iii. 3.

H. VI. PT. I. v. 3.

Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.

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

France, thou mayest hold a serpent by the tongue,
A cased lion by the mortal paw,

A fasting tyger safer by the tooth

Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.

K. J. iii. 1.

"The purpose you undertake is dangerous:"-why, that's
certain; 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink ;-
but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we
pluck this flower, safety.
H.IV. PT. I. ii. 3.

The welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.

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

If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights-
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head;
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
Blunt wedges rive hard knots: the seeded pride
That hath to this maturity blown up

R. II. ii. 1.

DANGER,-continued.

In rank Achilles, must or now be cropp'd,
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil,
To overbulk us all.

There is more in it than fair visage.

OLD.

'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp
Than with an old one dying.

DARING.

As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud
On the uncertain footing of a spear.
I'll cross it though it blast me.

I dare damnation: To this point I stand.

T. C. i. 3.

H. VIII. iii. 2.

A. C. iii. 11.

H. IV. PT. I. i. 3

H. i. 1.

H. iv. 5.

DARKNESS, ITS EFFECT ON THE FACULTY OF HEARING.
Dark night, that from the eye his function takes,
The ear more quick of apprehension makes;
Wherein it doth impair the seeing sense,

It pays the hearing double recompense.

MENTAL.

M. N. iii. 2.

Madam, thou errest: I say, there is no darkness but ignorance; in which thou art more puzzled, than the Egyptians in their fog.

DAUGHTERS.

Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters,
By what you see them act.

DAWN.

The third hour of drowsy morning.

The silent hour steals on,

And flaky darkness breaks within the east.

And yon grey lines that fret the clouds,

Are messengers of day.

T. N. iv. 2.

O. i. 1.

H.V. iv. chorus.

R. III. v. 3.

J.C. ii. 1.

This morning, like the spirit of youth
That means to be of note, begins betimes.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night !-that
May bare the raven's eye.

But, look, the dawn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire.

A. C. iv. 4. dawning Cym. ii. ?.

Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast;

And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger;

H. i. 1.

H. i. 5.

DAWN,-continued.

At whose approach, ghosts wand'ring here and there,
Troop home to church-yards: damned spirits all,
That in cross-ways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.

M. N. iii. 2.

The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentle day
Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about
Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.

M. A. v. 3.

The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night
Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light:
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
From forth day's path-way made by Titan's wheels.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tip-toe on the misty mountain's top.
Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd.

DAY.

Even from Hyperion's rising in the east
Until his very downfall in the sea.
The stirring passage of the day.
As when the golden sun salutes the morn,
And having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach,
And overlooks the highest peering hills.
'Tis a lucky day, boy; and we'll do good

O, such a day,
So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won,
Came not, till now, to dignify the times,
Since Cæsar's fortunes!

R. J. ii. 3.

R. J. iii. 5. M. M. iv. 2.

Tit. And. v. 2.
C. E. iii. 1.

Tit. And. ii. 1.

deeds on't.

W. T. iii. 3.

H. IV. PT. II. i. 1.

DEATH (See also MAN, TIME, MIGHTY DEAD, LIFE, SOLDIER'S

DEATH).

The blind cave of eternal night.

Here is my journey's end; here is my butt,
And very sea-mark of my utmost sail.

O ruin'd piece of nature! this great world
Shall so wear out to nought.

Nay, nothing; all is said:

His tongue is now a stringless instrument;

R. III. v. 3.

0. v. 2.

K. L. iv. 6.

Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. R. II. ii. 1.

DEATH,-continued.

Dead, for my life.

Even so ;-my tale is told.

Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound

L. L. v. 2.

And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground. R. II. iii. 2.
Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee!
For none abides with me: my joy is-death;
Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,

Because I wish'd this world's eternity. H. VI. PT. II. 11. 4.
O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake
Lest thou a feverous life should'st entertain,
And six or seven winters more respect
Than a perpetual honour.

I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.

All is but toys: renown, and grace, is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

M. M. iii. 1.

M.V. iv. 1.

To-day, how many would have given their honours
To have sav'd their carcasses! took heel to do't,
And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm'd,
Could not find death, where I did hear him groan;
Nor feel him, where he struck.

M. ii. 3.

Cym. v. 3.

(Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling house,)

It is too late; the life of all this blood

Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain

Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,

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Foretel the ending of mortality.

K. J. v. 7.

R. III. iv. 4.

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that live must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

H. i. 2.

This fell serjeant death

Is strict in his arrest.

H. v. 5.

Dost fall?

If thou and nature can so gently part,

The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch

Which hurts and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still?
If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world
It is not worth leave-taking.

A. C. v. 2.

O, our lives' sweetness!

That with the pain of death, we'd hourly die,
Rather than die at once!

K. L. v. 3.

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