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GUIDERIUS.

Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',

When neither are alive.

POSTHUMUS.

Act 4, Sc. 2, 1. 254.

For thee, O Imogen! even for whom
my life
Is, every breath, a death; and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril

Myself I'll dedicate.

BELARIUS.

Act 5, Sc. 1, 7. 26.

The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Act 5, Sc. 5, 1. 351.

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Give me a gash, put me to present pain;
Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me,
O'erbear the shores of my mortality,

And drown me with their sweetness.

PERICLES.

Act 5, Sc. 1, l. 192.

For truth can never be confirm'd enough,

Though doubts did ever sleep.

Act 5, Sc. 1, l. 203.

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CLEOPATRA.

Good now, play one scene of excellent dissembling; and let it look like perfect honour.

CLEOPATRA.

Act 1, Sc. 3, l. 78.

Who's born that day

When I forget to send to Antony,

Shall die a beggar.

Act 1, Sc. 5, l. 64.

CLEOPATRA.

My salad days,

When I was green in judgment:-cold in blood.

MENECRATES.

Act 1, Sc. 5, l. 75.

We, ignorant of ourselves,

Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit

By losing of our prayers.

ENOBARBUS.

Act 2, Sc. 1, l. 5.

The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that

The winds were love-sick with them; the oars

were silver,

Which to the tune of lutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat, to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own per-

son,

It beggar'd all description: she did lie
In her pavilion (cloth of gold of tissue),
O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see

The fancy outwork nature: on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did.

ENOBARBUS.

Act 2, Sc. 2, l. 190.

Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety. Other women cloy
The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies; for vilest things
Become themselves in her, that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish.

Act 2, Sc. 2, 1. 235.

CLEOPATRA.

A hand that kings

Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing.

CLEOPATRA.

Though it be honest, it is never good

Act 2, Sc. 5, 1. 29.

To bring bad news: give to a gracious message An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell

Themselves, when they be felt.

POMPEY.

Act 2, Sc. 5, 1. 85.

Well, I know not

What harsh counts fortune casts upon my face;

But in my bosom shall she never come,

To make my heart her vassal.

CLEOPATRA.

Celerity is never more admir'd,
Than by the negligent.

Act 2, Sc. 6, l. 54.

Act 3, Sc. 7, 1. 24.

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