Give you a reason on compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I. King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.

I was now a coward on instinct.

No more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me!

What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight?

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

Ibid.

A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like

a bladder.

In King Cambyses' vein.

Ibid.

Ibid.

That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father

ruffian, that vanity in years.

Ibid.

Banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.

Ibid.

Play out the play.

Ibid.

O, monstrous! but one half-pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack!

Diseased Nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions.

I am not in the roll of common men.

Ibid.

Act iii. Se. 1

Ibid.

Glen. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?

Ibid.

While you live, tell truth and shame the devil!1

Ibid.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew

Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers.

Ibid.

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

Ibid.

A deal of skimble-skamble stuff.

Ibid.

1 BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER: Wit without Money, act iv. sc. 1. SWIFT:

Mary the Cookmaid's Letter.

Lord, Lord, how this world is given to lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath; and so was he. But we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. King Henry IV. Part I. act v. Sc. 4.

I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly.
Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless,

So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,

And would have told him half his Troy was burnt.

Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office, and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd tolling a departing friend.

Ibid.

Part 11. Act i. Sc. 1.

Ibi

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.

A rascally yea-forsooth knave.

Sc. 2.

Ibid.

Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

We that are in the vaward of our youth.

Ibid

Ibid.

For my voice, I have lost it with halloing and singing of anthems.

Ibid.

It was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if they have a good thing to make it too common.

Ibid.

I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to

When we mean to build,

We first survey the plot, then draw the model;

And when we see the figure of the house,
Then must we rate the cost of the erection.1

Sc. 3.

1 Which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it? Lake c. 28.