All fancy-fick fhe is, and pale of cheer With fighs of love. Midsummer Night's Dream, A, 3, S. 2, You thief of love! what, have you come by night, And ftol'n my love's heart from him? Midfummer Night's Dream, Ą. 3, S. 2. Lovers and madmen have fuch feething brains, Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 5, S. 1, Before the time I did Lyfander see, Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S. 1. Midfummer Night's Dream, A. 1, S. 1. Ah me! for aught that I could ever read, Could ever hear by tale or history, The courfe of true love never did run smooth. Things bafe and vile, holding no quantity, Your wrongs do fet a fcandal on my fex: O fpirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou! Even in a minute! Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 1. She She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek. Twelfth Night, A. 2, S. 4. O, what a deal of fcorn looks beautiful Twelfth Night, A. 3, S. 1. Such as I am, all true lovers are; Unftaid and fkittifh in all motions elfe, Save, in the conftant image of the creature Twelfth Night, A. 2, S. 4. Yet I fuppofe him virtuous, know him noble, Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 5. Write loyal cantons of contemned love, Twelfth Night, A. 1, S. 5. Farewell, Thou pure impiety, and impious purity! Much ado about nothing, A. 4, S. 1. I never tempted her with word too large; * Much ado about nothing, A. 4, S. 1. I will not be fworn, but love may transform me to an oyster; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oyfter of me, he shall never make me fuch a fool. Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 3. I do much wonder, that one man, feeing how much another man is a fool when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laugh'd at fuch shallow follies in others, become the argument of his own fcorn, by falling in love. Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 3. Love me! why, it must be requited. I hear how I am cenfured: they fay, I will bear myself proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they fay too, that he will rather die than give any fign of affection. I did never think to marry :-I must not feem proud. Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 3. Loving goes by haps: Some Cupid kills with arrows, fome with traps. Much ado about nothing, A. 3, S. 1. She cannot love, Nor take no shape nor project of affection, 3, Much ado about nothing, A. S. I. They fay, the lady is fair; 'tis a truth I can bear them witnefs; and virtuous; 'tis fo, I cannot reprove it and wife-but for loving me:-By my troth, it is no addition to her wit;-nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 3. If I do not take pity of her, I am a villain; if I do not love her, I am a Jew: I will go get her picMuch ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 3. ture. If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Or that I do not yet, and ever did, And ever will-though he do shake me off I would do much Othello, A. 4, S. 2. Othello, A. 4, S. 1. To atone them, for the love I bear to Caffio. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man fwear he loves me. Much ado about nothing, A. 1, S. 1. How sweetly do you minister to love, 1. Much ado about nothing, A. 1, S. 1. Prove, that ever I lose more blood with love, than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker's pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-houfe for the fign of blind Cupid. Much ado about nothing, A. 1, S. 1. Friendship is constant in all other things, Save in the office and affairs of love: Therefore, all hearts in love use their own tongues; atone them.] Make them one; reconcile them. "Atone them" feems harfh. Perhaps we may read, "Attune them," JOHNSON. . e. Create an harmony between them-reconcile them. A. B. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And truft no agent. Much ado about nothing, A. 2, S. 1. Were 't to renounce his baptifm, All feals and fymbols of redeemed fin,— His foul is fo enfetter'd to her love, That the may make, unmake, do what fhe lift, With his weak function. Othello, A. 2, S. 3. What! keep a week away? feven days and nights! Eight score eight hours? and lovers abfent hours, More tedious than the dial eight score times, O weary reckoning! Othello, A. 3, S. 4. You know me well: and herein spend but time, Than if you had made waste of all I have. Merchant of Venice, A. 1, S. 1. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Merchant of Venice, A. 2, S. 1. I tell thee, lady, this afpect of mine Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear, Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue, Merchant of Venice, A. 2, S. 1. What! keep a week away ?---Seven days and nights!] Hui! univorfum triduum! TERENCE. A. B. There |