All of Shakespeare’s plays. More…
I will, captain: farewell.
This bottle makes an angel.
Will you give me money, captain?
My lord?
Do, my lord.
Indeed, Sir John, you said so.
Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.
'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!
Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm.
Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs be out of all compass, out of all reasonable compass, Sir John.
Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.
O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most monstrous watch is at the door.
Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
What think you they portend?
My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold these exhalations?
Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices.
'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.
Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going to the king's exchequer.