WAGER. Though't be a sportful combat, Yet in the trial much, opinion dwells. T. C. i. 3.
Nothing can seem foul to those that win. H. IV. pt. I. v. 1.
WAGGERY. A waggish courage ; Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrelous as a weasel. Cym. iii. 4.
WANDERER. He that commends me to mine own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the ocean seeks another drop ; Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.
C. E. i. 2.
WANT. Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek. L. L. iv. 3.
WANTON. Your worship's a wanton. M. W. ii. 2.
WANTONNESS. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him ; if the devil have him not in fee simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again. if. W. iv. 2.
WAR (See also Battle). The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. J. C. v. 1.
Slaves for pillage fighting, Obdurate vassals, fell exploits effecting, In bloody deaths and ravishments delighting ; Nor children's tears, nor mothers' groans respecting. Poems.
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes ; Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. T. A. iv. 3.
The grappling vigour, and rough frown of war. K. J. iii. 1.
The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds ; fight for a plot,
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause ; Which is not tomb enough, and continent, To hide the slain. H. iv. 4 .
Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war. T. A. v. 2.
Let it not disgrace me, If I demand, before this royal view, What rub, or what impediment, there is, Why that the naked, poor, and
mangled peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births, Should not, in this best garden of the world, Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage ? Alas ! she hath from France too long been chas'd ; And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in its own fertility. Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned, dies : her hedges even-pleach'd, — Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put
forth disorder'd twigs : her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon ; while that the coulter rusts, That should. deracinate such savagery: The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness ; and nothing teems, But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness ; Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children, Have lost, or do not learn, for want of time, The sciences that should become our country ; But grow, like savages, — as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood, — To swearing, and stern looks, diffused attire, And every thing that seems unnatural. H. V. v. 2.
Now, for the bare-pick' d bone of majesty, Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace : Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Meet in one line ; and vast confusion waits (As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast) The imminent decay of wrested pomp. Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can Hold out this tempest. K. J. iv. 3
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire. H. VI. pt. I. iv. 2.
Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies ; Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every man : They sell the pasture now to buy the horse ; Following the mirror of all Christian kings, With winged heels, as English Mercuries. H. V. ii. chorus.
Accursed and unquiet wrangling days ! How many of you have mine eyes beheld ! My husband lost his life to get the crown ; And often
up and down my sons were toss'd, For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss; And, being seated, and domestic broils Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors Make war upon themselves ; brother to brother, Blood to blood, self 'gainst self.
O preposterous And frantic outrage ! end thy damned spleen ; Or let me die, to look on death no more ! R. III. ii. 4.
Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats, Will not debate the question of this straw : This is the imposthume of much wealth
and peace ; That inward breaks, and shows no cause without, Why the man dies. H. iv. 4.
The toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger I' the name of fame, and honour ; which dies i' the search. Cym. iii. 3. Hence, therefore, thou nice cruich ; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand : And hence, thou sickly quoif ; Thou
art a guard too wanton for the head, Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. H. IV. pt. II. i. 1.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ; And the flesh'd soldier, — rough and hard of heart, — In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell ; mowing like grass Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants. H.V. iii. 3.
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war. H. IV. pt. I. v. 1.
O war, thou son of hell, Whom angry heavens do make their minister, Throw in the frozen bosoms of our parts Hot coals of vengeance !
Let no soldier fly : He that is truly dedicate to war, Hath no self-love ; nor he, that loves himself, Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, The name of valour. H. VI. pt. II. v. 2.
In a moment, look to see The blind and bloody soldier, with foul hand, Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters ; Your fathers
taken by the silver beards, And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls ; Your naked infants spitted upon pikes ; Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd Do break the clouds. H. V. iii. 3.
The nimble gunner With linstock now the devilish cannon touches. H. V. iii. chorus.
See a siege : Behold the ordnance on their carriages, With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. H. V. iii. chorus.
Follow thy drum ; With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules : Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel ; Then what should war be ?
T. A. iv. 3.
Mortal staring war. R. III. v. 3.
God forgive the sins of all those souls, That to their everlasting residence, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king. K. J. ii. 1.
Why have they dar'd to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war, And ostentation of despightful arms ? R. II. ii. 3.
He is their god ; he leads them like a thing, Made by some other deity than nature, That shapes man better ; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence, Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, Or butchers killing flies. C. iv. 6.
Sword, hold thy temper ; heart, be wrathful still : Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. H. VI. pt. II. v. 2.
Alas, poor country ! Almost afraid to know itself ! It cannot Be call'd our mother, but our grave : where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend the air, Are made, not mark'd ; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstacy ; the dead man's knell, Is there scarce ask'd, for who ; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying, or ere they sicken. M. iv. 3.
Therefore, my Harry, Be it thy course to busy giddy minds With foreign quarrels ; that action, hence borne out, May waste the memory
of the former days. H. IV. pt. II. iv. 4.
Examples, gross as earth, exhort me : Witness, this army of such mass, and charge, Led by a delicate and tender prince ; Whose spirit,
by divine ambition puff'd, Makes mouths at the invisible event ; Exposing what is mortal, and unsure, To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare, Even for an egg-shell. H. iv. 4.
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself ; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire. R. Ill. v. 4.
He is come to ope The purple testament of bleeding war ; But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Shall ill-become the flower of England's face ; Change the complexion of her maid-pale face, To scarlet indignation, and bedew Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. R.II. iii. 3.
Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous ! Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand : Foul subornation is predominant, And equity exil'd your highness' land. H. VI. pt. II. iii. 1.
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads ? Or shall we, on the helmets of our foes, Tell our devotion with revengeful arms ? H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1. .
I'll use the advantage of my power, And lay the summer's dust with show'rs of blood, Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen. R. II. iii. 3.
Let confusion of one part, confirm The other's peace : till then, blows, blood, and death. K.J. ii. 2.
At this time, We sweat and bleed : the friend hath lost his friend ; And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd By those that feel their sharpness. K. L. v. 3.
Your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, Like Amazons, come tripping after drums ; Their thimbles into armed guantlets change, Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination. K. J. v. 2.
It is war's prize to take all vantages, And ten to one is no impeach of valour. H. VI. pt. III. i. 4.
Thou know'st, great son, The end of war's uncertain. C. v. 3.
0, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel ; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, In undetermin'd differences of kings. K.J. ii. 2.
Let them come ; They come like sacrifices in their trim, And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoking war, All hot and bleeding, will we offer them : The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit, Up to the ears in blood. H. IV. pt. I. iv. 1.
Come, let us make a muster speedily : Doomsday is near ; die all, die merrily. H. IV. pt. I. iv. 1.
It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are sick For breathing and exploit. A. W. i. 2.
The gallant monarch is in arms ; And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers, To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. K J. v. 2. Away, you trifier ! Love ? I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate ; this is no world, To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips : We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns, And pass them current too : — Gods me, my horse ! H. IV. pt. I. ii. 3
I do believe, Statist though I am none, nor like to be, That this will prove a war. Cym ii. 4.
Let me have war, say I ; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night ; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. C. iv. 5.
They shall have wars, and pay for their presumption. H. VI. pt. III. iv. 1.
How now, lad ? is the wind in that door, i' faith ? must we all march ? H. IV. pt. I. iii. 3.
O virtuous fight, When right with right wars, who shall be most right. T. C. iii. 2.
Prognostics of. The bay-trees in our country all are wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven ; The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change ; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other, to enjoy by rage and war. R. II. ii. 4.
WASTE. To paint the lily is wasteful. K. J. iv. 2.
WATCHMAN. Why, you speak like an antient and most quiet watchman ; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend. M. A. iii. 3.
WEAKNESS. This milky gentleness, and course of yours, Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon, You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom, Than prais'd for harmful mildness. K. L. i. 4.
I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance ; Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skilless as unpractis'd infancy. T.G. i. 1.
WEALTH. How i' the name of thrift doth he rake this together ? H. VIII. iii. 2.
THE ASSUMED AND ASSIGNED PRIVILEGES OF. Faults that are rich, are fair. T.A. i. 2.
WEEPING (See also Grief, Lamentation, Sorrow, Tears) Give me no help in lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth laments : All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being governed by the wat'ry moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world ! R. Ill ii. 2.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief. H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1.
And the remainder mourning over them, Brim full of sorrow, and dismay ; but chiefly, Him you term'd, Sir, the good old lord Gonzalo ; His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eaves of reeds. T. v. 1.
No, I'll not weep : — I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep.
K. L. ii. 4.
I cannot weep : for all my body's moisture Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart. H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1.
'Twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. T. G. ii. 3.
WELCOME. A hundred thousand welcomes : I could weep, And I could laugh ; I am light, and heavy : welcome : A curse begin at very root of .his heart, That is not glad to see thee ! C. ii. 1.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.
R. J. ii. 6.
Sir, you are very welcome to our house ; It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
M. V. v. 1.
I reckon this always, — that a man is never undone till he be hanged ; nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. T. G. ii. 5.
If thou wantest any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. H. IV. pt. II. v. 3.
WELL Doing. Things done well, And with a care, exempt themselves from fear. H. VIII. i. 2.
The Duty of. We are born to do benefits. T.A. i. 5.
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if
we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, But to fine issues : nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. M. M. i. 1.
WELSH. But I will never be a truant, love, Till I have learn'd thy language ; for thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen, in a summer's bower, With ravishing division to her lute. H. IV. pt. I. iii. 1.
Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh ; And 'tis no marvel he's so humorous. H. IV. pt. I. iii. 1.
WHISPERERS. Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? R. III. i. 3.
WHITE. Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. R. J. iii. 2.
I take thy hand ; this hand, As soft as doves-down, and as white as it ; Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, That's bolted by the
northern blasts twice o'er. W. T. iv. 3.
And Red. If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by
pale-white shown Then, if she fear, or be to blame, By this you shall not know ; For still her cheeks possess the same, Which native she doth owe. L. L. i. 2.
WIFE (See also Espousal). My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty : To you I am bound for life and education ; My life and education both do learn me How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty ; I am hitherto your daughter : But here's my husband ; And so much duty as my mother show'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor, my lord. 0. i. 3.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no secrets That appertain to you ? Am I yourself But, as it
were, on sort, or limitation; To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. J. C. ii. 1.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband : And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And not obedient to his honest will, What is she but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord ?
T. S. v. 2.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance : commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land ; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ; And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience. T. S. v. 2.
I will be master of what is mine own : She is my goods, my chattels ; she is my house, My household-stuff, my field, my barn, My horse,
my ox, my ass, my anything ; And here she stands, touch her whoever dare ; I'll bring mine action on the proudest he That stops my way
in Padua. T. S. iii. 2.
Go thy ways, Kate : That man i' the world, who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, For speaking false in that : Thou art, alone, (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, — Obeying in commanding,
— and thy parts Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,) The queen of earthly queens. H. VIII. ii. 4.
You are my true and honourable wife ; As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops, That visit my sad heart. J. C. ii. 1.
0, ye gods, Render me worthy of this noble wife ! J. C. ii. 1.
I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife ; I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, A woman well reputed ;
Cato's daughter. Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded ? J. C. ii. 1.
She is mine own ; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. T. G. ii. 4.
Should all despair, That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none: It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where 'tis predominant. W. T. i. 2.
As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another ; The third 'o the world is yours : which, with a snaffle, You may pace easy, but
not such a wife. A. C. ii. 2.
But the full sum of me Is sum of something ; which, to term in gross, Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd : Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn ; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours, to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king. M. V. iii. 2.
I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war where they should sue for peace ; Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. T. S. v. 2.
Fye, fye, unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor ; It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads ; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; And in no sense is meet , or amiable.
T. S. v. 2.
Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust ? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle ? M. A. ii. 1.
WIFE, Slighted. Alas, poor lady ! 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Of a detesting lord. A. W. iii. 5.
I do think, it is their husbands' faults, If wives do fall ; Say, that they slack their duties And pour our treasures into foreign laps ; Or else
break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us ; or, say, they strike us, Or scant our former having in despight : Why, we
have galls ; and, though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them : they see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do, When they change us for
others ? Is it sport ? I think it is : And doth affection breed it ? I think it doth ; Is't frailty, that thus errs ? It is so too : And have not we affections ? Desires for sport ? and frailty, as men have ? Then, let them use us well ; else, let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct
us to. 0. iv. 3.
WILFULNESS. 0, Sir, to wilful men, The injuries that they themselves procure Must be their schoolmasters. K. L. ii. 4.
WILL. For death remember'd, should be like a mirror, Who tell us, life's but breath ; to trust it, error. I'll make my will then ; and, as sick men do, Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe, Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did. P. P. i. 1.
Thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. A. Y. ii. 1.
Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in legacies. J. C. iv. 1.
Ay, who doubts that ? a will ! a wicked will ; A woman's will ; a canker'd grandam's will. K. J. ii. 1.
My will? Od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest, indeed ! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven ; I am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. M. W. iii. 4.
WIND. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. H. VI. pt.III. ii. 5.
WINE (See also Drunkard). Drunk ! and speak parrot ? and squabble ? and swagger ? and speak fustian with one's own shadow ?
0, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee — devil ! 0. ii. 3.
Come, come ; good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used ; exclaim no more against it. 0. ii. 3.
WINNING. Winning would put any man into courage. Cym. ii. 3.
WINTER. When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes
frozen home in pail ; When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl Tu-whit ! tu-who ! a merry note, While
greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw ; When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl ...
L. L. v. 2.
WISDOM. Ay, marry ; now unmuzzle your wisdom. A. Y. i. 2.
To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield. P. P. ii. 4.
WISHERS. Wishers were ever fools. A.C. iv. 13.
WIT. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. M. A. iii. 5.
He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. A. Y. v. 4.
Odd quirks and remnants of wit. M. A. ii. 3.
Since the little wit that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have, makes a great show. A.Y. i. 2.
But a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ; Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished, So sweet and voluble is his discourse. L. L. ii. 1.
A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. H. v. 1.
Muster your wits : stand on your defence ; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. L. L. v. 2.
Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools ; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man : for what says Quinapalus ? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. T.N. i. 5.
I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. H. IV. pt. II. i. 2.
It is no matter, if I do halt ; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable : A good wit will make use of
any thing ; I will turn diseases to commodity. H. IV. pt. II. i. 2.
By my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for ; we shall be flouting ; we cannot hold. A. Y. v. 1.
Sir, your wit ambles well ; it goes easily. M. A. v. 1.
Dart thy skill at me ; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout ; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance ; Cut me to pieces
with thy keen conceit. L. L. v. 2.
You should then have accosted her ; and with some excellent jest, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into
dumbness. T. N. iii. 2.
Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think ?
T. N. iii. 1.
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters ! T. C. ii. 1.
0, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. M. A. iii. 1.
He wants wit that wants resolved will. T. G. ii. 6.
He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit. M. A. ii. 3.
Good wits will be jangling ; but, gentles, agree. L. L. ii. 1.
None are so surely caught when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool : folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of
school ; And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. L. L. v. 2.
Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, As foolery in the wise when wit doth dote ; Since all the power thereof it doth apply, To prove,
by wit, worth in simplicity. L. L. v. 2.
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at ? L. L. v. 2.
Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, and left nothing in the middle. K. L. i. 4.
His wit is as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. H. IV. pt. II. ii. 4.
Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains ; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. T.C. ii.1.
Are his wits safe ? is he not light of brain ? 0. iv. 1.
See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment. M. W. v. 5.
Well, better wits have worn plain statute caps. L. L. v. 2
When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded by the forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. A.Y. iii. 3
God help me ! how long have you profess'd apprehension ? M. A. iii. 4.
He'll but break a comparison or two on me ; which, peradventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy ; and then there's a partridge's wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. M. A. ii. 1.
An Unconscious. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. A. Y. ii. 4.
WIT, Reflections on the Scull of A. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont
to set the table in a roar ? Not one now to mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. H. v. 1.
Women's. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement ; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole : stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. A.Y. iv. 1.
Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Tit. And. ii. 1.
WITLING. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons, pease ; And utters it again when God doth please : He is wit's pedlar ; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs ; And we that sell by the gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to
grace it with such show. L. L. v. 2.
WITCHES. What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't ?
Live you ? or are you aught That man may question ? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips : — You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. M. i. 3.
I c'onjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me : Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches ; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up ; Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown
down ; Though castles topple on their warder's heads ; Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope Their heads to their foundations ;
though the treasure Of nature's germins tumble altogether, Ev'n till destruction sicken, — answer me To what I ask.
M. iv. 1.
WITHDRAWING. So to your pleasures ; I am for other than for dancing measures. A.Y. v. 4.
Woe. 0, what a sympathy of woe is this ! As far from help as limbo is from bliss ! Tit. And. iii. 1.
WOLSEY, Cardinal. You are meek and humble mouth' d ; You sign your place, and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility : but your heart Is cramn'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours, Gone slightly o'er low steps ; and now are mounted, Where powers are your retainers ; and your words (Domestics to you) serve your will, as't please Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, You tender more your person's honour, than Your high profession spiritual.
H. VIII. ii. 4.
He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes : one, that by suggestion Tied all the kingdom : simony
was fair play ; His own opinion was his law : I' the presence He would say untruths ; and be ever double, Both in his words and meaning : He was never (But where he meant to ruin) pitful: His promises were, as he then was, mighty ; But his performance, as he is now, nothing. Of his own body he was ill, and gave The clergy ill example. H. VIII. iv. 2.
This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion' d to much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought
him, sweet as summer: And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet, in bestowing, Madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford : one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it. The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died, Fearing God.
H. VIII. iv. 2.
WOMAN. Ah me ! how weak a thing The heart of woman is ! J. C. ii. 4.
When maidens sue Men give like gods ; but when they weep and kneel, All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would have them. M. M. i. 5.
We cannot fight for love, as men may do ; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. M. N. ii. 2.
Women are not In their best fortunes, strong ; but want will perjure The ne'er touch'd vestal. A. C. iii. 10.
These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. H. VI. pt. I. i. 2.
O most delicate fiend ! Who is't can read a woman ? Cym. v. 5.
She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd : She is a woman ; therefore to be won. H. VI. pt. I. v. 3.
Come on, come on : You are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. O. ii. 1.
A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty ; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty, Will deign to dip or touch one drop of it. T. S. v. 2.
Can my sides hold, to think, that man, — who knows By history, report, or his own proof, What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose But must be, — will his free hours languish for Assured bondage ? Cym. i. 7.
The bountiful blind woman [Fortune] doth most mistake in her gifts to women. For those that she makes fair, she scarce makes honest ;
and those that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favouredly. A. Y. i. 2.
Ah ! poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind. T. C. v. 2.
That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites ! 0. iii. 3.
General Invective against. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers ? We are bastards all : And that most
venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stampt ; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit :
yet my mother seem'd The Dian of that time : so doth my wife The nonpareil of this. O vengeance ! vengeance ! Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me, oft, forbearance ; did it with A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't . Might well have warm'd old Saturn ;
that I thought her As chaste as unsunn'd snow : 0, all the devils ! Could I find out The woman's part in me ! For there's no motion That
tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part : Be it lying, note it, The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving, hers ; Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges, hers ; Ambitions, coverings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability : All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, Why, hers, in part, or all ; but, rather, all : — For even to vice They are not constant, but are changing still One vice, but of a minute old, for one Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them : — Yet 'tis greater skill,
ln a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better. Cym. ii. 5.
WONDER. Masters, I am to discourse wonders. M. N. iv. 2.
They spake not a word ; But, like dumb statues, or breathless stones, Star'd on each other, and look'd deadly pale. R. III. iii. 7.
Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder ? You make me strange, Even to the
disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, While mine are blanch' d with fear. M. iii. 4.
For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, I know not what to say. M. A. iv. 1.
Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times. A. W. ii. 1.
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens. 0. ii. 1.
These are not natural events ; they strengthen, From strange to stranger. T.v. 1.
Bring in the admiration ; that we with thee May spend our wonder too, or take off thine, By wond'ring how thou took'st it.
A. W. ii. 1.
WOOING, Wedding, and Repenting. Wooing, wedding, and repenting, are as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace : the first
suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical ; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry ;
and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
M. A. ii. 1.
WORDS (See also Verbosity). A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. T.G. ii. 4.
And tire the hearer with a book of words. M. A. i. 1.
Good words are better than bad strokes. J.C. v. 1.
You have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers ; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. T. G. ii. 4.
Words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. T. N. iii. 1.
Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. T. N. iii. 1.
His plausive words He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them To grow there, and to bear. A. W. i. 2.
I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. H. IV. pt. II. iii. 2.
0, they have lived long in the alms-basket of words. L. L. v. 1.
Let not his smooching words Bewitch your hearts ; be wise, and circumspect. H. VI. pt. II. i. 1.
And Blows. Brutus. — Sir, I hope, My words disbench'd you not. Coriolanus. — No, Sir ; yet oft, When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. C. ii. 2.
Meretricious Abuse of. They that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. T. N. iii. 1.
WORLD. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women, merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man
in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant ; Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms: And then, the
whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping, like snail, Unwillingly to school : And then, the lover ; Sighing
like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eye-brow : Then, a soldier ; Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Ev'n in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances, And so he plays his part : The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ; With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in the sound : Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes,
sans taste, sans every thing. A.Y. ii. 7.
Under the canopy. C. iv. 5. .
The varying shore o' the world. A.C. iv. 13.
This wide and universal theatre Presents more woful pageants, than the scene Wherein we play. A. Y. ii. 7.
0, world, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise Are still together: who twin, as 'twere, in love, Unseparable, shall within this hour, On a dissention of a doit, break
out To bitterest enmity : So, fellest foes, Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, . And interjoin their issues. C. iv. 4.
A bad world, I say ! I would, I were a weaver ; I could sing all manner of songs. H. IV. pt. I. ii. 4.
How you speak ! Did you but know the city's usuries, And felt. them knowingly : the art o' the court, As hard to leave, as keep ; whose top
to climb Is certain falling ; or so slippery, that The fear's as bad as falling : the toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I' the name of fame, and honour, which dies i' the search ; And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, As record of fair act ; nay, many times, Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what's worse, Must court'sey at the censure : — 0, boys, this story, The world may read in me.
Cym. iii. 3.
A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears : See how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine
ear : Change places ; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief ? K. L. iv. 6.
It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord. R. III. iii. 2.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. M. V. i. 1.
Fie, fie, fie ! Pah, pah ! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee. K. L. iv. 6.
O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world Shall so wear out to nought. K. L. iv. 6.
Come, let's away to prison : We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage : When thou dost ask my blessing, I'll kneel down, And ask of
thee forgiveness : So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news ; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses, and who wins ; who's in, who's out ; — And take upon's the mystery of things, As if we were God's spies : And we'll wear out, In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones, That ebb and flow by the moon.
K. L.v. 3.
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit : No more can you distinguish of a man, Than of his outward show, which, God he knows, Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart. R. III. iii. 1.
I am in this earthly world ; where, to do harm, Is often laudable : to do good, sometimes Accounted dangerous folly. M. iv. 2.
You have too much respect upon the world : They lose it that do buy it with much care. M. V. i. 1.
I am amaz'd, methinks ; and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world. K. J. iv. 3.
Report. Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass : their virtues We write in water. H. VIII. iv. 2.
The evil that men do lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones. J. C. iii. 2.
WORMS. Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat all creatures else to fat us ; and we fat ourselves for maggots : your fat king,
and your lean beggar, is but variable service ; two dishes, but to one table ; that's the end. H. iv. 3.
A man may fish with a worm that eat of a king ; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. H. iv. 3.
WORST. O gods ! who is't can say, I'm at the worst I am worse than e'er I was. K. L iv. 1.
The worst is not, So long as we can say, — This is the worst. K. L. iv. 1.
WOUND. The private wound is deepest. T. G. v. 4.
WOUNDED Spirit. A discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness. C. v. 1
WRONGS. If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, ' Twill come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep. K. L. iv. 2
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion in him ? Tit. And. iv. 1.
Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong. H.IV. pt. I. iv. 3.
Nothing can seem foul to those that win. H. IV. pt. I. v. 1.
WAGGERY. A waggish courage ; Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrelous as a weasel. Cym. iii. 4.
WANDERER. He that commends me to mine own content, Commends me to the thing I cannot get I to the world am like a drop of water, That in the ocean seeks another drop ; Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.
C. E. i. 2.
WANT. Where nothing wants, that want itself doth seek. L. L. iv. 3.
WANTON. Your worship's a wanton. M. W. ii. 2.
WANTONNESS. The spirit of wantonness is, sure, scared out of him ; if the devil have him not in fee simple, with fine and recovery, he will never, I think, in the way of waste, attempt us again. if. W. iv. 2.
WAR (See also Battle). The storm is up, and all is on the hazard. J. C. v. 1.
Slaves for pillage fighting, Obdurate vassals, fell exploits effecting, In bloody deaths and ravishments delighting ; Nor children's tears, nor mothers' groans respecting. Poems.
Put armour on thine ears, and on thine eyes ; Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. T. A. iv. 3.
The grappling vigour, and rough frown of war. K. J. iii. 1.
The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds ; fight for a plot,
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause ; Which is not tomb enough, and continent, To hide the slain. H. iv. 4 .
Giving our holy virgins to the stain Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war. T. A. v. 2.
Let it not disgrace me, If I demand, before this royal view, What rub, or what impediment, there is, Why that the naked, poor, and
mangled peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties, and joyful births, Should not, in this best garden of the world, Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage ? Alas ! she hath from France too long been chas'd ; And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in its own fertility. Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned, dies : her hedges even-pleach'd, — Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, Put
forth disorder'd twigs : her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon ; while that the coulter rusts, That should. deracinate such savagery: The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness ; and nothing teems, But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility. And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness ; Even so our houses, and ourselves, and children, Have lost, or do not learn, for want of time, The sciences that should become our country ; But grow, like savages, — as soldiers will, That nothing do but meditate on blood, — To swearing, and stern looks, diffused attire, And every thing that seems unnatural. H. V. v. 2.
Now, for the bare-pick' d bone of majesty, Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace : Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Meet in one line ; and vast confusion waits (As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast) The imminent decay of wrested pomp. Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can Hold out this tempest. K. J. iv. 3
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire. H. VI. pt. I. iv. 2.
Now all the youth of England are on fire, And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies ; Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought
Reigns solely in the breast of every man : They sell the pasture now to buy the horse ; Following the mirror of all Christian kings, With winged heels, as English Mercuries. H. V. ii. chorus.
Accursed and unquiet wrangling days ! How many of you have mine eyes beheld ! My husband lost his life to get the crown ; And often
up and down my sons were toss'd, For me to joy, and weep, their gain and loss; And, being seated, and domestic broils Clean overblown, themselves, the conquerors Make war upon themselves ; brother to brother, Blood to blood, self 'gainst self.
O preposterous And frantic outrage ! end thy damned spleen ; Or let me die, to look on death no more ! R. III. ii. 4.
Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats, Will not debate the question of this straw : This is the imposthume of much wealth
and peace ; That inward breaks, and shows no cause without, Why the man dies. H. iv. 4.
The toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger I' the name of fame, and honour ; which dies i' the search. Cym. iii. 3. Hence, therefore, thou nice cruich ; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand : And hence, thou sickly quoif ; Thou
art a guard too wanton for the head, Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. H. IV. pt. II. i. 1.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up ; And the flesh'd soldier, — rough and hard of heart, — In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell ; mowing like grass Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants. H.V. iii. 3.
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war. H. IV. pt. I. v. 1.
O war, thou son of hell, Whom angry heavens do make their minister, Throw in the frozen bosoms of our parts Hot coals of vengeance !
Let no soldier fly : He that is truly dedicate to war, Hath no self-love ; nor he, that loves himself, Hath not essentially, but by circumstance, The name of valour. H. VI. pt. II. v. 2.
In a moment, look to see The blind and bloody soldier, with foul hand, Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters ; Your fathers
taken by the silver beards, And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls ; Your naked infants spitted upon pikes ; Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd Do break the clouds. H. V. iii. 3.
The nimble gunner With linstock now the devilish cannon touches. H. V. iii. chorus.
See a siege : Behold the ordnance on their carriages, With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. H. V. iii. chorus.
Follow thy drum ; With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules : Religious canons, civil laws, are cruel ; Then what should war be ?
T. A. iv. 3.
Mortal staring war. R. III. v. 3.
God forgive the sins of all those souls, That to their everlasting residence, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king. K. J. ii. 1.
Why have they dar'd to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war, And ostentation of despightful arms ? R. II. ii. 3.
He is their god ; he leads them like a thing, Made by some other deity than nature, That shapes man better ; and they follow him,
Against us brats, with no less confidence, Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, Or butchers killing flies. C. iv. 6.
Sword, hold thy temper ; heart, be wrathful still : Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. H. VI. pt. II. v. 2.
Alas, poor country ! Almost afraid to know itself ! It cannot Be call'd our mother, but our grave : where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend the air, Are made, not mark'd ; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstacy ; the dead man's knell, Is there scarce ask'd, for who ; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying, or ere they sicken. M. iv. 3.
Therefore, my Harry, Be it thy course to busy giddy minds With foreign quarrels ; that action, hence borne out, May waste the memory
of the former days. H. IV. pt. II. iv. 4.
Examples, gross as earth, exhort me : Witness, this army of such mass, and charge, Led by a delicate and tender prince ; Whose spirit,
by divine ambition puff'd, Makes mouths at the invisible event ; Exposing what is mortal, and unsure, To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare, Even for an egg-shell. H. iv. 4.
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself ; The brother blindly shed the brother's blood, The father rashly slaughter'd his own son, The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire. R. Ill. v. 4.
He is come to ope The purple testament of bleeding war ; But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Shall ill-become the flower of England's face ; Change the complexion of her maid-pale face, To scarlet indignation, and bedew Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. R.II. iii. 3.
Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous ! Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand : Foul subornation is predominant, And equity exil'd your highness' land. H. VI. pt. II. iii. 1.
Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, Numb'ring our Ave-Maries with our beads ? Or shall we, on the helmets of our foes, Tell our devotion with revengeful arms ? H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1. .
I'll use the advantage of my power, And lay the summer's dust with show'rs of blood, Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen. R. II. iii. 3.
Let confusion of one part, confirm The other's peace : till then, blows, blood, and death. K.J. ii. 2.
At this time, We sweat and bleed : the friend hath lost his friend ; And the best quarrels, in the heat, are curs'd By those that feel their sharpness. K. L. v. 3.
Your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, Like Amazons, come tripping after drums ; Their thimbles into armed guantlets change, Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination. K. J. v. 2.
It is war's prize to take all vantages, And ten to one is no impeach of valour. H. VI. pt. III. i. 4.
Thou know'st, great son, The end of war's uncertain. C. v. 3.
0, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel ; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, In undetermin'd differences of kings. K.J. ii. 2.
Let them come ; They come like sacrifices in their trim, And to the fire-ey'd maid of smoking war, All hot and bleeding, will we offer them : The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit, Up to the ears in blood. H. IV. pt. I. iv. 1.
Come, let us make a muster speedily : Doomsday is near ; die all, die merrily. H. IV. pt. I. iv. 1.
It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are sick For breathing and exploit. A. W. i. 2.
The gallant monarch is in arms ; And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers, To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. K J. v. 2. Away, you trifier ! Love ? I love thee not, I care not for thee, Kate ; this is no world, To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips : We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns, And pass them current too : — Gods me, my horse ! H. IV. pt. I. ii. 3
I do believe, Statist though I am none, nor like to be, That this will prove a war. Cym ii. 4.
Let me have war, say I ; it exceeds peace, as far as day does night ; it's spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. C. iv. 5.
They shall have wars, and pay for their presumption. H. VI. pt. III. iv. 1.
How now, lad ? is the wind in that door, i' faith ? must we all march ? H. IV. pt. I. iii. 3.
O virtuous fight, When right with right wars, who shall be most right. T. C. iii. 2.
Prognostics of. The bay-trees in our country all are wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven ; The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change ; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other, to enjoy by rage and war. R. II. ii. 4.
WASTE. To paint the lily is wasteful. K. J. iv. 2.
WATCHMAN. Why, you speak like an antient and most quiet watchman ; for I cannot see how sleeping should offend. M. A. iii. 3.
WEAKNESS. This milky gentleness, and course of yours, Though I condemn it not, yet, under pardon, You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom, Than prais'd for harmful mildness. K. L. i. 4.
I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance ; Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skilless as unpractis'd infancy. T.G. i. 1.
WEALTH. How i' the name of thrift doth he rake this together ? H. VIII. iii. 2.
THE ASSUMED AND ASSIGNED PRIVILEGES OF. Faults that are rich, are fair. T.A. i. 2.
WEEPING (See also Grief, Lamentation, Sorrow, Tears) Give me no help in lamentation, I am not barren to bring forth laments : All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, That I, being governed by the wat'ry moon, May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world ! R. Ill ii. 2.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief. H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1.
And the remainder mourning over them, Brim full of sorrow, and dismay ; but chiefly, Him you term'd, Sir, the good old lord Gonzalo ; His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eaves of reeds. T. v. 1.
No, I'll not weep : — I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep.
K. L. ii. 4.
I cannot weep : for all my body's moisture Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart. H. VI. pt. III. ii. 1.
'Twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. T. G. ii. 3.
WELCOME. A hundred thousand welcomes : I could weep, And I could laugh ; I am light, and heavy : welcome : A curse begin at very root of .his heart, That is not glad to see thee ! C. ii. 1.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.
R. J. ii. 6.
Sir, you are very welcome to our house ; It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
M. V. v. 1.
I reckon this always, — that a man is never undone till he be hanged ; nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. T. G. ii. 5.
If thou wantest any thing, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. H. IV. pt. II. v. 3.
WELL Doing. Things done well, And with a care, exempt themselves from fear. H. VIII. i. 2.
The Duty of. We are born to do benefits. T.A. i. 5.
Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if
we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, But to fine issues : nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence, But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. M. M. i. 1.
WELSH. But I will never be a truant, love, Till I have learn'd thy language ; for thy tongue Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair queen, in a summer's bower, With ravishing division to her lute. H. IV. pt. I. iii. 1.
Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh ; And 'tis no marvel he's so humorous. H. IV. pt. I. iii. 1.
WHISPERERS. Cannot a plain man live, and think no harm, But thus his simple truth must be abus'd By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks ? R. III. i. 3.
WHITE. Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. R. J. iii. 2.
I take thy hand ; this hand, As soft as doves-down, and as white as it ; Or Ethiopian's tooth, or the fann'd snow, That's bolted by the
northern blasts twice o'er. W. T. iv. 3.
And Red. If she be made of white and red, Her faults will ne'er be known, For blushing cheeks by faults are bred, And fears by
pale-white shown Then, if she fear, or be to blame, By this you shall not know ; For still her cheeks possess the same, Which native she doth owe. L. L. i. 2.
WIFE (See also Espousal). My noble father, I do perceive here a divided duty : To you I am bound for life and education ; My life and education both do learn me How to respect you ; you are the lord of duty ; I am hitherto your daughter : But here's my husband ; And so much duty as my mother show'd To you, preferring you before her father, So much I challenge that I may profess Due to the Moor, my lord. 0. i. 3.
Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, Is it excepted, I should know no secrets That appertain to you ? Am I yourself But, as it
were, on sort, or limitation; To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, And talk to you sometimes ? Dwell I but in the suburbs Of your good pleasure ? If it be no more, Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. J. C. ii. 1.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such a woman oweth to her husband : And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And not obedient to his honest will, What is she but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord ?
T. S. v. 2.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance : commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land ; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ; And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience. T. S. v. 2.
I will be master of what is mine own : She is my goods, my chattels ; she is my house, My household-stuff, my field, my barn, My horse,
my ox, my ass, my anything ; And here she stands, touch her whoever dare ; I'll bring mine action on the proudest he That stops my way
in Padua. T. S. iii. 2.
Go thy ways, Kate : That man i' the world, who shall report he has A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, For speaking false in that : Thou art, alone, (If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, — Obeying in commanding,
— and thy parts Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out,) The queen of earthly queens. H. VIII. ii. 4.
You are my true and honourable wife ; As dear to me, as are the ruddy drops, That visit my sad heart. J. C. ii. 1.
0, ye gods, Render me worthy of this noble wife ! J. C. ii. 1.
I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, A woman that lord Brutus took to wife ; I grant I am a woman ; but, withal, A woman well reputed ;
Cato's daughter. Think you, I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded ? J. C. ii. 1.
She is mine own ; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. T. G. ii. 4.
Should all despair, That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none: It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where 'tis predominant. W. T. i. 2.
As for my wife, I would you had her spirit in such another ; The third 'o the world is yours : which, with a snaffle, You may pace easy, but
not such a wife. A. C. ii. 2.
But the full sum of me Is sum of something ; which, to term in gross, Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd : Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn ; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours, to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king. M. V. iii. 2.
I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war where they should sue for peace ; Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. T. S. v. 2.
Fye, fye, unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor ; It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads ; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds ; And in no sense is meet , or amiable.
T. S. v. 2.
Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered by a piece of valiant dust ? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marle ? M. A. ii. 1.
WIFE, Slighted. Alas, poor lady ! 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Of a detesting lord. A. W. iii. 5.
I do think, it is their husbands' faults, If wives do fall ; Say, that they slack their duties And pour our treasures into foreign laps ; Or else
break out in peevish jealousies, Throwing restraint upon us ; or, say, they strike us, Or scant our former having in despight : Why, we
have galls ; and, though we have some grace, Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them : they see, and smell, And have their palates both for sweet and sour, As husbands have. What is it that they do, When they change us for
others ? Is it sport ? I think it is : And doth affection breed it ? I think it doth ; Is't frailty, that thus errs ? It is so too : And have not we affections ? Desires for sport ? and frailty, as men have ? Then, let them use us well ; else, let them know, The ills we do, their ills instruct
us to. 0. iv. 3.
WILFULNESS. 0, Sir, to wilful men, The injuries that they themselves procure Must be their schoolmasters. K. L. ii. 4.
WILL. For death remember'd, should be like a mirror, Who tell us, life's but breath ; to trust it, error. I'll make my will then ; and, as sick men do, Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe, Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did. P. P. i. 1.
Thou mak'st a testament As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more To that which had too much. A. Y. ii. 1.
Fetch the will hither, and we shall determine How to cut off some charge in legacies. J. C. iv. 1.
Ay, who doubts that ? a will ! a wicked will ; A woman's will ; a canker'd grandam's will. K. J. ii. 1.
My will? Od's heartlings, that's a pretty jest, indeed ! I ne'er made my will yet, I thank heaven ; I am not such a sickly creature, I give heaven praise. M. W. iii. 4.
WIND. Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. H. VI. pt.III. ii. 5.
WINE (See also Drunkard). Drunk ! and speak parrot ? and squabble ? and swagger ? and speak fustian with one's own shadow ?
0, thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee — devil ! 0. ii. 3.
Come, come ; good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used ; exclaim no more against it. 0. ii. 3.
WINNING. Winning would put any man into courage. Cym. ii. 3.
WINTER. When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes
frozen home in pail ; When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl Tu-whit ! tu-who ! a merry note, While
greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw ; When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl ...
L. L. v. 2.
WISDOM. Ay, marry ; now unmuzzle your wisdom. A. Y. i. 2.
To wisdom he's a fool that will not yield. P. P. ii. 4.
WISHERS. Wishers were ever fools. A.C. iv. 13.
WIT. We will spare for no wit, I warrant you. M. A. iii. 5.
He uses his folly like a stalking horse, and under the presentation of that, he shoots his wit. A. Y. v. 4.
Odd quirks and remnants of wit. M. A. ii. 3.
Since the little wit that fools have, was silenced, the little foolery that wise men have, makes a great show. A.Y. i. 2.
But a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal : His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest ; Which his fair tongue (conceit's expositor) Delivers in such apt and gracious words, That aged ears play truant at his tales, And younger hearings are quite ravished, So sweet and voluble is his discourse. L. L. ii. 1.
A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. H. v. 1.
Muster your wits : stand on your defence ; Or hide your heads like cowards, and fly hence. L. L. v. 2.
Those wits that think they have thee, do very oft prove fools ; and I, that am sure I lack thee, may pass for a wise man : for what says Quinapalus ? Better a witty fool, than a foolish wit. T.N. i. 5.
I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men. H. IV. pt. II. i. 2.
It is no matter, if I do halt ; I have the wars for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more reasonable : A good wit will make use of
any thing ; I will turn diseases to commodity. H. IV. pt. II. i. 2.
By my troth, we that have good wits, have much to answer for ; we shall be flouting ; we cannot hold. A. Y. v. 1.
Sir, your wit ambles well ; it goes easily. M. A. v. 1.
Dart thy skill at me ; Bruise me with scorn, confound me with a flout ; Thrust thy sharp wit quite through my ignorance ; Cut me to pieces
with thy keen conceit. L. L. v. 2.
You should then have accosted her ; and with some excellent jest, fire-new from the mint, you should have banged the youth into
dumbness. T. N. iii. 2.
Have you not set mine honour at the stake, And baited it with all the unmuzzled thoughts That tyrannous heart can think ?
T. N. iii. 1.
Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of wit he utters ! T. C. ii. 1.
0, she would laugh me Out of myself, press me to death with wit. M. A. iii. 1.
He wants wit that wants resolved will. T. G. ii. 6.
He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit. M. A. ii. 3.
Good wits will be jangling ; but, gentles, agree. L. L. ii. 1.
None are so surely caught when they are catch'd, As wit turn'd fool : folly, in wisdom hatch'd, Hath wisdom's warrant, and the help of
school ; And wit's own grace to grace a learned fool. L. L. v. 2.
Folly in fools bears not so strong a note, As foolery in the wise when wit doth dote ; Since all the power thereof it doth apply, To prove,
by wit, worth in simplicity. L. L. v. 2.
Are these the breed of wits so wondered at ? L. L. v. 2.
Thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, and left nothing in the middle. K. L. i. 4.
His wit is as thick as Tewkesbury mustard. H. IV. pt. II. ii. 4.
Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains ; 'a were as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. T.C. ii.1.
Are his wits safe ? is he not light of brain ? 0. iv. 1.
See now, how wit may be made a Jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment. M. W. v. 5.
Well, better wits have worn plain statute caps. L. L. v. 2
When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a man's good wit seconded by the forward child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a great reckoning in a little room. A.Y. iii. 3
God help me ! how long have you profess'd apprehension ? M. A. iii. 4.
He'll but break a comparison or two on me ; which, peradventure, not marked, or not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy ; and then there's a partridge's wing saved, for the fool will eat no supper that night. M. A. ii. 1.
An Unconscious. Nay, I shall ne'er be 'ware of mine own wit, till I break my shins against it. A. Y. ii. 4.
WIT, Reflections on the Scull of A. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont
to set the table in a roar ? Not one now to mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. H. v. 1.
Women's. Make the doors upon a woman's wit, and it will out at the casement ; shut that, and 'twill out at the key-hole : stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. A.Y. iv. 1.
Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. Tit. And. ii. 1.
WITLING. This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons, pease ; And utters it again when God doth please : He is wit's pedlar ; and retails his wares At wakes, and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs ; And we that sell by the gross, the Lord doth know, Have not the grace to
grace it with such show. L. L. v. 2.
WITCHES. What are these, So wither'd, and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't ?
Live you ? or are you aught That man may question ? You seem to understand me, By each at once her choppy finger laying Upon her skinny lips : — You should be women, And yet your beards forbid me to interpret That you are so. M. i. 3.
I c'onjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me : Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches ; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up ; Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown
down ; Though castles topple on their warder's heads ; Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope Their heads to their foundations ;
though the treasure Of nature's germins tumble altogether, Ev'n till destruction sicken, — answer me To what I ask.
M. iv. 1.
WITHDRAWING. So to your pleasures ; I am for other than for dancing measures. A.Y. v. 4.
Woe. 0, what a sympathy of woe is this ! As far from help as limbo is from bliss ! Tit. And. iii. 1.
WOLSEY, Cardinal. You are meek and humble mouth' d ; You sign your place, and calling, in full seeming, With meekness and humility : but your heart Is cramn'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. You have, by fortune, and his highness' favours, Gone slightly o'er low steps ; and now are mounted, Where powers are your retainers ; and your words (Domestics to you) serve your will, as't please Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, You tender more your person's honour, than Your high profession spiritual.
H. VIII. ii. 4.
He was a man Of an unbounded stomach, ever ranking Himself with princes : one, that by suggestion Tied all the kingdom : simony
was fair play ; His own opinion was his law : I' the presence He would say untruths ; and be ever double, Both in his words and meaning : He was never (But where he meant to ruin) pitful: His promises were, as he then was, mighty ; But his performance, as he is now, nothing. Of his own body he was ill, and gave The clergy ill example. H. VIII. iv. 2.
This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion' d to much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought
him, sweet as summer: And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet, in bestowing, Madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford : one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it. The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died, Fearing God.
H. VIII. iv. 2.
WOMAN. Ah me ! how weak a thing The heart of woman is ! J. C. ii. 4.
When maidens sue Men give like gods ; but when they weep and kneel, All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would have them. M. M. i. 5.
We cannot fight for love, as men may do ; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. M. N. ii. 2.
Women are not In their best fortunes, strong ; but want will perjure The ne'er touch'd vestal. A. C. iii. 10.
These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. H. VI. pt. I. i. 2.
O most delicate fiend ! Who is't can read a woman ? Cym. v. 5.
She's beautiful ; and therefore to be woo'd : She is a woman ; therefore to be won. H. VI. pt. I. v. 3.
Come on, come on : You are pictures out of doors, Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens, Saints in your injuries, devils being offended, Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds. O. ii. 1.
A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty ; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty, Will deign to dip or touch one drop of it. T. S. v. 2.
Can my sides hold, to think, that man, — who knows By history, report, or his own proof, What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose But must be, — will his free hours languish for Assured bondage ? Cym. i. 7.
The bountiful blind woman [Fortune] doth most mistake in her gifts to women. For those that she makes fair, she scarce makes honest ;
and those that she makes honest, she makes very ill-favouredly. A. Y. i. 2.
Ah ! poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, The error of our eye directs our mind. T. C. v. 2.
That we can call these delicate creatures ours, And not their appetites ! 0. iii. 3.
General Invective against. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers ? We are bastards all : And that most
venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stampt ; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit :
yet my mother seem'd The Dian of that time : so doth my wife The nonpareil of this. O vengeance ! vengeance ! Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me, oft, forbearance ; did it with A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't . Might well have warm'd old Saturn ;
that I thought her As chaste as unsunn'd snow : 0, all the devils ! Could I find out The woman's part in me ! For there's no motion That
tends to vice in man, but I affirm It is the woman's part : Be it lying, note it, The woman's ; flattering, hers ; deceiving, hers ; Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers ; revenges, hers ; Ambitions, coverings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability : All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows, Why, hers, in part, or all ; but, rather, all : — For even to vice They are not constant, but are changing still One vice, but of a minute old, for one Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, Detest them, curse them : — Yet 'tis greater skill,
ln a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better. Cym. ii. 5.
WONDER. Masters, I am to discourse wonders. M. N. iv. 2.
They spake not a word ; But, like dumb statues, or breathless stones, Star'd on each other, and look'd deadly pale. R. III. iii. 7.
Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder ? You make me strange, Even to the
disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, While mine are blanch' d with fear. M. iii. 4.
For my part, I am so attir'd in wonder, I know not what to say. M. A. iv. 1.
Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times. A. W. ii. 1.
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens. 0. ii. 1.
These are not natural events ; they strengthen, From strange to stranger. T.v. 1.
Bring in the admiration ; that we with thee May spend our wonder too, or take off thine, By wond'ring how thou took'st it.
A. W. ii. 1.
WOOING, Wedding, and Repenting. Wooing, wedding, and repenting, are as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque pace : the first
suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical ; the wedding, mannerly modest, as a measure full of state and ancientry ;
and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.
M. A. ii. 1.
WORDS (See also Verbosity). A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. T.G. ii. 4.
And tire the hearer with a book of words. M. A. i. 1.
Good words are better than bad strokes. J.C. v. 1.
You have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers ; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. T. G. ii. 4.
Words are very rascals since bonds disgraced them. T. N. iii. 1.
Words are grown so false, I am loath to prove reason with them. T. N. iii. 1.
His plausive words He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them To grow there, and to bear. A. W. i. 2.
I will maintain the word with my sword, to be a soldier-like word, and a word of exceeding good command. H. IV. pt. II. iii. 2.
0, they have lived long in the alms-basket of words. L. L. v. 1.
Let not his smooching words Bewitch your hearts ; be wise, and circumspect. H. VI. pt. II. i. 1.
And Blows. Brutus. — Sir, I hope, My words disbench'd you not. Coriolanus. — No, Sir ; yet oft, When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. C. ii. 2.
Meretricious Abuse of. They that dally nicely with words, may quickly make them wanton. T. N. iii. 1.
WORLD. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women, merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man
in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant ; Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms: And then, the
whining school-boy, with his satchel, And shining morning face, creeping, like snail, Unwillingly to school : And then, the lover ; Sighing
like furnace, with a woful ballad Made to his mistress' eye-brow : Then, a soldier ; Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Ev'n in the cannon's mouth: And then, the justice; In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances, And so he plays his part : The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon ; With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in the sound : Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes,
sans taste, sans every thing. A.Y. ii. 7.
Under the canopy. C. iv. 5. .
The varying shore o' the world. A.C. iv. 13.
This wide and universal theatre Presents more woful pageants, than the scene Wherein we play. A. Y. ii. 7.
0, world, thy slippery turns ! Friends now fast sworn, Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, Whose hours, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise Are still together: who twin, as 'twere, in love, Unseparable, shall within this hour, On a dissention of a doit, break
out To bitterest enmity : So, fellest foes, Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, To take the one the other, by some chance, Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends, . And interjoin their issues. C. iv. 4.
A bad world, I say ! I would, I were a weaver ; I could sing all manner of songs. H. IV. pt. I. ii. 4.
How you speak ! Did you but know the city's usuries, And felt. them knowingly : the art o' the court, As hard to leave, as keep ; whose top
to climb Is certain falling ; or so slippery, that The fear's as bad as falling : the toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I' the name of fame, and honour, which dies i' the search ; And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, As record of fair act ; nay, many times, Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what's worse, Must court'sey at the censure : — 0, boys, this story, The world may read in me.
Cym. iii. 3.
A man may see how this world goes, with no eyes. Look with thine ears : See how yon' justice rails upon yon' simple thief. Hark, in thine
ear : Change places ; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief ? K. L. iv. 6.
It is a reeling world, indeed, my lord. R. III. iii. 2.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. M. V. i. 1.
Fie, fie, fie ! Pah, pah ! Give me an ounce of civet, good apothecary, to sweeten my imagination: there's money for thee. K. L. iv. 6.
O ruin'd piece of nature ! This great world Shall so wear out to nought. K. L. iv. 6.
Come, let's away to prison : We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage : When thou dost ask my blessing, I'll kneel down, And ask of
thee forgiveness : So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news ; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses, and who wins ; who's in, who's out ; — And take upon's the mystery of things, As if we were God's spies : And we'll wear out, In a wall'd prison, packs and sects of great ones, That ebb and flow by the moon.
K. L.v. 3.
Sweet prince, the untainted virtue of your years Hath not yet div'd into the world's deceit : No more can you distinguish of a man, Than of his outward show, which, God he knows, Seldom, or never, jumpeth with the heart. R. III. iii. 1.
I am in this earthly world ; where, to do harm, Is often laudable : to do good, sometimes Accounted dangerous folly. M. iv. 2.
You have too much respect upon the world : They lose it that do buy it with much care. M. V. i. 1.
I am amaz'd, methinks ; and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world. K. J. iv. 3.
Report. Noble madam, Men's evil manners live in brass : their virtues We write in water. H. VIII. iv. 2.
The evil that men do lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones. J. C. iii. 2.
WORMS. Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat all creatures else to fat us ; and we fat ourselves for maggots : your fat king,
and your lean beggar, is but variable service ; two dishes, but to one table ; that's the end. H. iv. 3.
A man may fish with a worm that eat of a king ; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. H. iv. 3.
WORST. O gods ! who is't can say, I'm at the worst I am worse than e'er I was. K. L iv. 1.
The worst is not, So long as we can say, — This is the worst. K. L. iv. 1.
WOUND. The private wound is deepest. T. G. v. 4.
WOUNDED Spirit. A discontented friend, grief-shot With his unkindness. C. v. 1
WRONGS. If that the heavens do not their visible spirits Send quickly down to tame these vile offences, ' Twill come, Humanity must perforce prey on itself, Like monsters of the deep. K. L. iv. 2
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion in him ? Tit. And. iv. 1.
Broke oath on oath, committed wrong on wrong. H.IV. pt. I. iv. 3.