All of Shakespeare’s plays.
Pray heaven he prove so, when you come to him!
All these are servants to deceitful men.
Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey when you come,
No matter who's displeased when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal.
If you think so, then stay at home and go not.
A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,
Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on.
You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.
What fashion, madam shall I make your breeches?
Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.
But in what habit will you go along?
I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Better forbear till Proteus make return.
Alas, the way is wearisome and long!
Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Nay, I was taken up for laying them down:
Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.
What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased
To be so anger'd with another letter.
Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
Nay, now you are too flat
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
No, madam; it is too sharp.
Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet methinks I do not like this tune.
I cannot reach so high.
Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.
It is too heavy for so light a tune.
That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
Give me a note: your ladyship can set.
Madam, it will not lie where it concerns
Unless it have a false interpeter.
Nothing concerning me.
To take a paper up that I let fall.
I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.
What would your ladyship?
That you may ruminate.
To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.
He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it: pardon the
fault I pray.
That the contents will show.
Peruse this paper, madam.
O, they love least that let men know their love.
Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
I have no other, but a woman's reason;
I think him so because I think him so.
Then thus: of many good I think him best.
Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.
As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.
Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind
According to my shallow simple skill.
Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.
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