All of Shakespeare’s plays.
A trial, come.
Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
Elves, list your names; silence, you airy toys.
Cricket, to Windsor chimneys shalt thou leap:
Where fires thou find'st unraked and hearths unswept,
There pinch the maids as blue as bilberry:
Our radiant queen hates sluts and sluttery.
This punk is one of Cupid's carriers:
Clap on more sails; pursue; up with your fights:
Give fire: she is my prize, or ocean whelm them all!
I do relent: what would thou more of man?
Didst not thou share? hadst thou not fifteen pence?
Why, then the world's mine oyster.
Which I with sword will open.
The horn, I say. Farewell.
Take heed, have open eye, for thieves do foot by night:
Take heed, ere summer comes or cuckoo-birds do sing.
Away, Sir Corporal Nym!
Believe it, Page; he speaks sense.
With liver burning hot. Prevent, or go thou,
Like Sir Actaeon he, with Ringwood at thy heels:
O, odious is the name!
He wooes both high and low, both rich and poor,
Both young and old, one with another, Ford;
He loves the gallimaufry: Ford, perpend.
Hope is a curtal dog in some affairs:
Sir John affects thy wife.
Thou art the Mars of malecontents: I second thee; troop on.
And I to Ford shall eke unfold
How Falstaff, varlet vile,
His dove will prove, his gold will hold,
And his soft couch defile.
With wit or steel?
Wilt thou revenge?
Let vultures gripe thy guts! for gourd and fullam holds,
And high and low beguiles the rich and poor:
Tester I'll have in pouch when thou shalt lack,
Base Phrygian Turk!
Shall I Sir Pandarus of Troy become,
And by my side wear steel? then, Lucifer take all!
Then did the sun on dunghill shine.
As many devils entertain; and 'To her, boy,' say I.
He hath studied her will, and translated her will,
out of honesty into English.
Two yards, and more.
I ken the wight: he is of substance good.
Young ravens must have food.
Why, then, let kibes ensue.
'Convey,' the wise it call. 'Steal!' foh! a fico
for the phrase!
O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield?
Ha, thou mountain-foreigner! Sir John and Master mine,
I combat challenge of this latten bilbo.
Word of denial in thy labras here!
Word of denial: froth and scum, thou liest!
He hears with ears.
How now, Mephostophilus!
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