All of Shakespeare’s plays.
We'll sure provide: thou shalt have my best gown to
make thee a pair; and I'll bring thee to the court myself.
Ay, but hark you, my friend; 'twas we that made up
this garment through the rough seams of the waters:
there are certain condolements, certain vails. I
hope, sir, if you thrive, you'll remember from
whence you had it.
Help, master, help! here's a fish hangs in the net,
like a poor man's right in the law; 'twill hardly
come out. Ha! bots on't, 'tis come at last, and
'tis turned to a rusty armour.
O, not all, my friend, not all; for if all your
beggars were whipped, I would wish no better office
than to be beadle. But, master, I'll go draw up the
But crave! Then I'll turn craver too, and so I
shall 'scape whipping.
Hark you, my friend; you said you could not beg.
Nay, then thou wilt starve, sure; for here's nothing
to be got now-a-days, unless thou canst fish for't.
Canst thou catch any fishes, then?
What a drunken knave was the sea to cast thee in our
Honest! good fellow, what's that? If it be a day
fits you, search out of the calendar, and nobody
look after it.
Ha, come and bring away the nets!
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