Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29 - Results found: 1188

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Compiler: Archbishop William Sancroft
Online: CELM FolgerFirstLines

--you are cruell If you deny him swearing. & take
from him Three full ꝑts of his language
By Septimus, in not in source (1.1.85-87), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 1
 
2. is there a justice, or thunder, & he not sink into ye Center?
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.11-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 1
 
– Sure he must have a punishment
yt Heaven is yet to make-
By Aglaura, in Aglaura (5.1.165-167), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 1
 
I know no Court but Marshall. No oyly language. No dal liance but wth death. No lofty measure but weary, & sad mar ches.
By , in not in source (1.1.61-64), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
Balls of consuming fire yt lickt men up like lightning
have I laught at, & tost ym back again like childrens trifles.
By , in not in source (1.1.65-68), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
upō ye edges of my enemies swords I’ve mcht like whirl= winds, fury at this handwaiting, Death at my right, Fortune
my forlorne hope, wn I have grapled wth destruction, & tug’d
wth pale fac’t ruine, night, & mischiefe frighted to see a
new day breake in blood.
By , in not in source (1.1.68-74), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
___ his cloathe look as if they were cutt out of half sword, pinckt wth pikes, & partizans
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.256-258), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
- wt will or S. Georges doe then?
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.271), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
– But say, Sr Huon--
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.278), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
His life is to fight, & swagger, Beaten about ye ears wth bawling
sheepskins, cut to ye soule for soer, here an arm lost &
there a leg, his hoble head seal’d up in salves, & searcloths,
like a packet & so sent ov to an hospitall. & all this sport for
cheese, & chines of dogs flesh, & mony wn 2 wednesdayes meet
together.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.320-328), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
-- & wt will be left, wn ye surgeons are paid, & all
leakes stopt.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.333-334), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
– He wants faire language. nay ‘tis certaine
He cannot say, Good morrow.
By , in not in source (1.2.22-23), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
-- Look how he Muses.
By , in not in source (1.2.40), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
Ha’s a
battalia now in’s brains.
By , in not in source (1.2.41), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
– This old dry’d timber chopt
wth thunder.
By , in not in source (1.2.55), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
– this fellow wth all his frights about him
& his furies, his larms, & his lances, Nay case him up in armor
cap-a- pea, yet I durst undtake r.
By , in not in source (1.2.46-51), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
3. – If thou dost thou seest my Myrmidons; he let ym loose—
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.28-29), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
--a 100 bastinado’s, 3 broken pates, his teeth knockt out,
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.17-18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
his
small gutts ꝑ isht,
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
his arms, & legs beaten to pouldesses
By La-Writ, in The Little French Lawyer (4.2.19), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 2
 
1. –in wt a phrase he speaks! as if his actions could be sett
of in nots. but a noyse. Sure has a drum in’s mouth.
By , in not in source (#1.182-84.), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
- If he speaks to Ladies;
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (1.1.85-88), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
- If he spies a faire lady he likes, his age keeps quart yt way, as if he were veiwing yor fortifications,
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (1.1.95-96), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
& psently they she must
expect a Herald, & a trumpet to bid her render –
By , in not in source (1.1.99-101), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
– wn ye fumes of battailes ascend into his head, & make him March mad,
By Lucippe, in The Mad Lover (1.1.146-148), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
– his vices make the
whole name of soldier suffer.
By , in not in source (1.1.214-15), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
4.
– if I studied ye countries laws I shd so easily sound all
yr depth, & rise up such a wonder, yt ye pleaders yt now are
in most practice, & esteem shd starve for want of clients. If I
traveld like wise Ulysses to see men, & manns, I would returne
in act more knowing yn Hom ^ere could fancy him. If a physitian
so oft I would restore death-wounded men, That where I li’vd
Galen shd not be nam’d, & he yt joynd again ye scattd limbs Of
torn Hippolita shd be forgotten. I could teach Ovid courtship. how
to win A Julia, & enjoy her, tho her dower were all ye Sun gives
light to. And for arms, were ye Persian hoast yt drank up rivs
added to ye Turks psent power, I could coon, & marshall ym
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.111-28), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
--Like Plautus Braggart.
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.130), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
– I’le take her eye as soone
as she looke on me. And if I come to speak once, woe be to her;
I have her in a nooze, she cannot scape me.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.36-38), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
– Ile makes a
Nun forget her beads in 2 howers.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.42), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
– Shee’s mine owne: I
told you wt a spell I carried wth me.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.76-77), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 3
 
1.
Ladies lips are like rosebuds, blowne wth mens breath, they
lose both sap, & savor
By , in not in source (1.1.129-30), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 4
 
3
— Shee’s all Innocent. for her a dove would assume ye
courage of a daring Eagle.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.29-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 4
 
1. kneald
\where’s ye genall?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.95-98), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5
 
– his palate’s down –
By , in not in source (2.3.32), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5
 
Sure she has
transform’d me, I had forgot my tongue cleane. My lips were lockt upō me. I nev before saw a face but I was able boldly to encount it, & speak my mind; This is divine & only servd wth revnce
By , in not in source (2.4.76-80), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5
 
3.
– as men transformed wth ye sade tale I told, they stood amaz’d
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.148-149), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5
 
4
– fy fy how lumpish? In a young ladies armes thus dull?
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.175-77), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 5
 
1.
his means are gone in fumo –
By Lovegood, in The Spanish Curate (#1.1.5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 6
 
He keeps ye house of pride, &
2 foolery: ‘Twill shortly spew him out.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.22-23), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 6
 
1.
These Court Camelions.
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (1.1.224), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 7
 
– they gett all by fooling, meerly
fooling. Desert does noth. valiant, wise, & vertuous are thḡs
yt walk by wth out bread, or breeches.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.2.301-03), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 7
 
You keep a prating of y or points of manns, & fill my head
wth lowsy circumstances, bett have ballets in’t. Yr courtly
worship how to put of my hat, you how to turne me, & you
forsooth how to blow my nose discreetly
By , in not in source (1.2.10-14), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 7
 
1. – Peace plaies wth you, as ye wind plaies wth feathers, dances
you, you grind wth all gusts, gallants. –
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (1.1.260-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 8
 
1
–the iron age return’d to Erebus.
By Fool, in The Mad Lover (1.1.282), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9
 
-- hang up yor iron,
By Picus, in The Mad Lover (1.2.337), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9
 
& turn y or sternesse into courtship
By King of Paphos, in The Mad Lover (None), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 9
 
1.
Tis but to dy. dogs doe it, ducks wth dabling. Birds sing away
yr soules, & babies sleep th ’em
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 10
 
4
death hath so many doors to let out life I will not long survive ym
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.35-36), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 10
 
Undertake a voyage round about
ye world?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.119-24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
Stand a breach?
By Syphax, in The Mad Lover (2.1.127-130), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
2.
Difficilia pulcra, yt s my Motto (gentlemen) I’le wine this
diamond frō ye rock, & weare her Or ------
By , in not in source (2.1.45-47), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
3
–but for Cleremont, ye bold, & undertaking Cleremont ---
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.41-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
--thou art all hon or, thy resolution would steele a coward
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.2.82-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
Name yt danger, be it of wt horrid shape soev wth I will shrink fro
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.3.52-4), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
-- Yeeld my sword? yt ’s Hebrew. I’le be cutt it peeces first.
By , in not in source (1.2.29-31), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
- I disclaim thee. My brother yt kept fortune bound, & left
conquest hereditary to his issue could not beget a coward –
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.3.2-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
--one soe excellent in all yt ’s noble. Whose only weakness
is excesse of courage. yt knows noe enemies yt he cannot
mast, but his affections.
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.57-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
4.
– I nev saw so small a bark wth such incredible val so long
defended, & agst such ods, & by 2 men scarse arm’d too.
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.5-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
–And
yet ye courage they exprst being taken, & ye contemt of death
won more upō me yn all they did being free. me thinks I
see ym yet wn they were brought aboard us disarmd & ready
to be putt in fetts How on ye suddain as if they had sworne
nev to tast ye bread of servitutde Both snatchḡ up yr swords
& frō this Virgin Takḡ a farewell only wth yr eyes They leapt
into ye sea --
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.9-18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
& wth such strength & cunning, they swim ming did delude ye rising billows, wth one hand making way
& wth ye other yr bloody swords advanc’t, threatng ye seagods
wth war, unlesse they brought ym safely of yt I am almost
confident they live
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (2.2.28-33), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 11
 
1.
The loves wee now know are but ye heats of half and houer &
coarse & base appetites, the heyres of idleness & blood.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.132-44), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 
The issues they beare things like ourselves vaine bubbles, breaths of ayre,
got wth an itching, as blists are sorrow conceives & shapes
ym. & oftentimes ye death of those wee love most brings ym into
ye world.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.159-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 
&c. p. 7
They make time old to tend them & expience an asse they
alter so. They grow. & ere wee can turn or thoughts, like drops of
wat, fall into ye maine, & are knowne noe more. This is ye love
of this world.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (#2.1.167-71), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 
+
True beauty dwells not on a cheek washt ov
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (2.1.48), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 
4.
D’ee love as painters doe, only some peices, some cert. handsom
touches of y or Mistris, & let ye mind pass by you unexamin’d?
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.224-226), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 
I love you. Not for yor beauty. Tho I confesse it blowes
ye first fire in us. time as he passes by puts out yt sparckle
Not for y or wealth altho ye world kneele to it, Fortune yt
ruines all, makes yt his conquest. Be honest & be vertuous
I'le admire you
By , in not in source (3.2.139-145), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 12
 

– did’st ev see a dog run mad o’the toothach? such another
toy is he now. so he glotes, & a grin̄, & bites
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (2.2.36-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 

Wild as Winter.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.36), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 

to a woman of her hopes beguild
A viper trod on, or an aspick’s mild.
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.3.125-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
-- Noth.ḡ wth in but he, & his lawtempest!
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
See where ye sea comes!
how it fomes, & brussels! The great leviathan o’the law, how
it tumbles!
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.35), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
3.
– Peace, touch wood.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.142), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
4.
– Once wellangerd, & like a sea, they roule, tosse, & chafe
a weeke after. ----
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.338-340), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
5
– such franticke terms would easily raise Billows of fury in ye
calmest breast, & heave a well hang’d patience of her hinge.
By Comodus, in The Virgin Widow (1.1.9-12), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
From Harpies nailes & Furies whips, From all sharp noses
& thin lips Frō 2legd catts wth thrice nine lives fro scal= d wort, Frō scoldḡ wive - & My Genius blesse, my starrs ꝑtect me
--
By Comodus, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.29-34), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
wt strange fitt Usurps thy patience, & bestowd thy brow?
wt means this strange Militia in thine eyes? Who raisd this storm
By Formidon, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.37-40), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
- if his rage be downe, Goe switch it up.
By Museus, in The Virgin Widow (#3.6.141), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 
Walk yors. till you be cool: y or choler may founđfounder you else
By Brainworm, in Every Man in his Humour (1.3.27-8), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 13
 

He has a striving soule ev it attempts or labs at Would wear out 20 bodies in another
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (2.2.42-44), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 14
 
2.
Give good fees, & they’l beget good causes.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.1.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15
 
– Line yor cause
warmly Sr, ye times are aguish. yt holds a plea in my heart. hang
ye penurious. yr causes (like yr purses) have poore issues.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.1.19-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15
 
Live
full of mony, & supply ye lawyer, & take y or choice of wt mans
land you please, Sr, wt pleasures, or wt ꝑfits, They’re
all y or owne .___
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.2.24-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15
 
5.
–to turn bawd to a 100 marks.
By Artesio, in The Virgin Widow (1.3.5), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15
 
corruption ye comon Key of Secrets
By , in not in source (4.1.31-32), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 15
 
1
– thy mangie soule – I shall meet thee, maggot, I shall.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (20-1), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
Surgeon, serringe, dogleech.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (3.2.74-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
- ye old gaping oyster
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (5.3.7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
3.
– two edg’d words.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.3.37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
–such scabbs of nature.
By Annabell, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.74), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
4.
thou glorious divell, thou varnisht peice of lust, thou painted
fury
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.144-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 16
 
- 2.
Remember, varlets, quake
& remember. I have brine for y or buttocks.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (4.6.189-90), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17
 
– 3.
I will make
ye on thy knees, bite out ye tongue yt wrongd me.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.230-31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17
 
4.
–if you play not faire play, & above board too, I have a
foolish gin heere I say no more, & if y or hon or s gutts are
not inchanted ____
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.143-47), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17
 
I’ll look myself into Revenge, & stare ye traitor to a carcase
By Ariaspes, in Aglaura (5(t).1.62-63), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 17
 
1.
gett ye to schoole study. & find ye näll cause why a dog
turns thrice about ere he lies down. there’s learning.
By , in not in source (3.2.121-23), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18
 
2.
– he has no heat; study consumes his oyle.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.2.154-155), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18
 
– a modest poore
slight thḡ, onely given to ye book.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.4-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18
 
A lady may weare him next her heart, & yet not warms him. His mind ( poore man)’s o’th’
law, & not on lewdness. On my conscience he knows not how to
look upō a woman more yn by read̄ wt sex she is.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.14-9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 18
 
1
—A sweeter sorrow I nev lookt upon, nor one yt braver
became his greife.
By Calis, in The Mad Lover (3.4.21-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
– Embalm it in y or truest tears.
-- nev sorrow.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (3.4.39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
more drops to ye Ocean?
By King of Paphos, in The Mad Lover (5.4.251), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
– no tomb shall hold
ye but these 2 arms. no trickmts but my tears Ov thy hearse my
sorrows like sad arms shall hand for ev On ye toughest marble
my eyes shall weep ye out an Epitaph. &cet cetera.
By , in not in source (5.4.293-97), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
2
I am too tough to melt.
By , in not in source (3.4.210), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
but yt
(to perfect my account of sorrow) -- --
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
3
– wth so full a sorrow yt men frō those rude eyes, yt nev
knew wt pitty means, or mercy, there stole down soft relentings
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (4.1.143-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
--I am girt round wth sorrow hell’s about me
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.2.268), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
4
– ‘twould melt a marble to feele my fortune, & tame a savage.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
Strew all y or witherd flowers, y or autumn sweets by ye hote
sunn ravisht of bud, & beauty
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.2-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
Thus round about no merry
noise; nor lusty songs be heard here, nor full cups crownd wth
wine make ye rooms giddy.
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.8-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
Sing mournfully--& prethee
let thy Lute weepe.
By Charino, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.11-12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
– Close retiremts! No visitants ad mitted, not ye day, these sable colos, all signs of tru sorrow.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.12-14), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 19
 
1
– his head hung wth hailes & frosty isicles.
By , in not in source (4.1.17-18), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 20
 
R.
– being set in years, none of those lusters Appear
now in her age, yt warm ye fancy, nor noth. in her face, but
handsom ruines.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.46-49), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 20
 
1. Ent a mask of beasts.
This lion was a man of war yt dyd
to guild his ladies pride. This dog a foole yt hung hims. for
love. This ape wth daily hugging of a glove forgot to eat
& dy’d. This goodly tree An usher yt still grew before his
Lady witherd at root. This, for he could not wooe, a grumbl̄
Lawyer. This py’d bird a page, yt melted out bec. he
wanted age.
By Orpheus, in The Mad Lover (78-86), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21
 
– 3
yor psents. courtship, yt s too good a
name, yor slavelike sevices yor morn̄ musick, yor walking
3 howers in ye raine at midnight To see her at her window,
sometimes laught at, sometimes admitted, & vouchsaf’d to
kisse her glove, her skirt, nay I’ve heard her slippers. How yn
you triumpht?
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.101-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21
 
– 4.
‘tis now in fashion Having a Mris, sure
you shd not be wth out a neat historicall shirt.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.24-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 21
 
1
– Faire, or foule, blind, or lame comes not amisse to him.
By Polybius, in The Mad Lover (4.5.18-20), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
he
rides like a night mare all ages, & all religions.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.20-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– She has
smockt away her blood.
By Polydore, in The Mad Lover (4.5.18), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– where gott he this vermin? &.
By Eumenes, in The Mad Lover (4.5.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
2.
(whore)
a coon gamester
By , in not in source (1.1.254), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– on easy- yeelding wanton
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.147), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
-- tir’d wth loose dalliance, & wth emty vaines
By Violante, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
3
– evy bone about you shakes you good Almanack makers to
foretell wt weather wee shall have.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.280-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– Ovid’s afternoone.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (4.7.67), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
-- ye spring of chastity.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.246), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
She did defile wth mud, ye mud of lust,
& made it lothsom even to goats—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.248-49), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
4.
–a dainty wench. would I might farme his custome.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.61-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
--a towne bull is a meer stoick to this fellow, & a Spanish, jennet a grave philosopher, & a spanish jennet a most
vertuous gentleman.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.159-161), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– a cat a mountain
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.158), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– A Caniball
yt feeds on ye heads of maids
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.155), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– a rogue yt breaks young
wenches to ye saddle
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.167), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
& knowes ye ꝑfect mannage
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.174), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
excellt dissectr, yt has cutt up more tender lamb pies—
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.180-81), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
--this puckfist, this univsall rutter--
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.24-25), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
-- o’ yor kidnies
how they begin to melt! how big he beares. Sure he will
leap before us all!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.259-61), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
how ye dog leeres!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.264), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– hote, so fiery
& my blood beats alarums thro my body, & fancy high
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.41-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
all to fitters, & he’s taking
ye height of his fortune wth a sirenge. hee’s chin’d, good man.
By , in not in source (2.3.3-5), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
would you have
children? Hee’l get you those as fast, & thick as flieblows.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (3.3.81-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
--he was of Italy, & yt country breeds not Precisians yt way, but
hote Libertines
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (4.1.47-48), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
—the man’s lost. You may gather up his
dry bones to make ninepins, but for his flesh—
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (4.4.28-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
—look’s as
if he were Crowtrodden. fy how his has shrink unđunder him!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.54-55), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
- appears like a rascall yt had bin hung a year, or two in gibbets.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.59-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
- Draws his legs aft him like a lame dog.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.88), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– O ye old Lady!
I tame a kind of waitgwom. lies cross my back too. ô how she
stings!
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.72-74), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– ye worst exercise in ye world. to be drunk wth good
Canary a meer Julip, or like gourd wat to it. 20 surfets
come short of one nightsworke.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (5.1.17-20), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
Make me a dog kennell, I’le keep yor house & bark,
& feed on bare bones. & be whipt out of doores.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.119-21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
& rather yn laborḡ
these fulling mills.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (4.4.107-108), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 22
 
– stinks like a poyson’d ratt behind
a hanging, or a rotten cabbage.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (4.5.44-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
– the good old gentlewom.
is strucken dumb. & there her grace sits mumping like an
old ape eating of brawne.
By Chilax, in The Mad Lover (5.4.8-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
2
– a poore thin theef.
By , in not in source (1.2.35), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
I dare tell you to yor new ceruz’d face, You are ye proudest th. & have ye least reason to be soe, yt I ev read of. In stature
you are a giantess, & yor tailor takes measure of you wth a
Jacobs staffe, or he can nev reach you. For yor complexion, you
are so farre frō faire, I doubt yor mother was too familiar
wth ye Moore yt serv’d her. Y or limbs, & features I pass breifely
ov, as thr not worth description, & come roundly to your Soule
if you have any. for ‘tis doubtfull.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (4.1.32-46), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
This soule (or rather salt,
to keep this heap of flesh frō being a walking stench) like a
large Inne stands open for ye enttainment of all impious practi ses, but there’s no corn an honest thought can take up, &c.
By , in not in source (5.1.47-52), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
I have spoken. &c_
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (5.1.33), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
3
– wt an alphabet of faces he puts on? or) runs through?
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
-- ye dry bisket rogue
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (2.3.58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
– a bedrid winter hang upon y or
cheeks, & blast, blast, blast those buds of pride yt paint you—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (3.5.58-60), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
4
– meager paleness like winter nips ye roses, & ye lillies, the
spring yt youth & love adornd her love wth
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.3-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
-- ye image of pale death stampt on her forehead.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.21), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 23
 
1
– smells like mornings breath, pure amber, beyond ye courted
Indies in her spices.
By Memnon, in The Mad Lover (4.5.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
– sweet as ye spring, & as his blossoms
tender.
By , in not in source (4.1.16), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
2
—whose all-excelling forme Disdaines compa rison wth any shee, yt putts in for a faire one__
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.262-254), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
whō curious
nature made wth out a pattn, Whose copy she hath lost too –
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.271-72), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
--some pfer the French for yr conceited dressings – some ye plump
Itatian bona roba’s
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.248-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
– I’m strucken dumb wth wonder! sure
all ye excellence of ye Earth dwells heere.
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.69-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
– How his eyes like
torches fling yr beams round: how manly his face shewes!
By Amaranta, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.71-72), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
-- those divine lips where ꝑpetuall spring growes.
By Leandro, in The Spanish Curate (3.4.94), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
3
– faire orb of beauty.
By Chorus, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.142), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
-- putt on all her beauties, all her enticemts, outblush damask
roses, & dim ye breaking East wth her bright chrystalls.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.46-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
-- ye beautteous huntress. Diana shews an Ethiope to this beauty.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.53-54), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
Ha! bless mine eyes! wt pcious peice of nature to pose ye
world?
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.62-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
– Bless me! wt starrs are there?
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.69), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
-- ye abstract of all sweetnesse,
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.75), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
--as faire as if ye mor= ning bare her. Imagination nev made a sweeter. –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.131-32), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
--they flattered me yt sd my looks were charms, my touches fet: ters. My locks soft chains to bind ye arms of Princes, & make ym
in yt wisht for bondage happy.
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.4.23-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 24
 
4
– ye gentle vine climbs up ye oke, & clips him, And when ye
stroke comes, yet they fall together.
By , in not in source (5.4.243-4), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
2.
to gett upō my great horse, & appeare ye signe of such a man
& trott my measures, or fiddle out whole frosty nights under ye
window, while my teeth keep tune, I hold no handsomenesse.
By , in not in source (2.1.22-6), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
O most faire cov of a hand far fairer
Thou blessed innocence yt guards’t yt whiteness, live next my heart.
By , in not in source (2.4.81-3), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
I would resigne my essence, yt he were As happy as my love could
fashion him, Tho evy bless'g yt shd fall on him, might pve a curse to me
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (4.4.6-9), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
3.
– ye soft-plum’d god
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.147), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
– licks his fingers, kneeling, &
whining like a boy new breacht To get a toy forsooth not worth
an apple—
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.254-56), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
4
– to him in sacred vow I’ve given this body, in him my mind inhabits
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.121-22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
yr thred of life was spun
together –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.90-1), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
5.
this ring is Cupids sphere.
By Evaldus, in The Virgin Widow (1.6.199), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 25
 
2
– carefull to on whoō he showres his bounties. He yts Liberall
to all alike, may doe a good by chance, but nev out of
judgemt.
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.20-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26
 
– 4.
(jewels)
--& wn I list to give such toies of lesser
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (#3.2.161-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26
 
Thus like ye lazy minutes will I drop ym wch
past once are forgotten.
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.163-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 26
 
2
y or gathering sires so long heap muck together yt yr ^kind sons
to ease ym of ye care wish ym in heaven—
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.5-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
-- joyn farm to farm, suffer no LoP yt in a cleare day Falls
in ye prospect of yor covetous ey to be anothers. take use
upon use, & cutt ye throats of hayres wth cozening Mortgages
rack yor poore tenants, till they look like so many skeletons
for want of food: And wn yt widdows curses ye ruines of ancient
families, tears of Orphans Have hurried you to ye devill, yor heyr will dance merrily upō yor grave, ꝑhaps give a double
pistolet to some poore needy fryer to say a mass to keepe
y or ghost frō walking.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.197-211), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
Then could you find a loophole to look out you’d see ransack y or iron chests. & once again
Pluto’s flamecolord daughter shall be free to domineer in
Taverns, masks, & revells, as she was us’d before she was
y or captive.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.214-19), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
– covetous beyond exprssion. & to increase
his heape will dare ye devill & all ye plagues of darknesse.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.280-282), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
--at home liv’d like a camelion, suckt ye aire of misery, & grew
fat by ye brewis of an Egshell. would smell a cooksshop, & goe
home, & surfet, & be a month in fasting out yt fev.
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.5.19-23), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
I'le clap 4 tire of teeth into my mouth more
but I will grind his substance.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.129-30), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
3
– already one foot in ye grave, yet study pfit, as if you were
assur’d to live heere ev.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.161-62), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
- All this was purchast by
lawlesse force, & so you but revell in The teares, & grones
of such as were ye owners
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.213-215), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
4
like a rich miser Hoard up yor treasure imꝑtg Nor to yors nor
others ye use of ym. They are to you but like inchanted Viands
On wch you seeme to feed, yet pine wth hunger
By Guiomar, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.133-37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
Leave thy vigilant Father alone to number ov his green
Apricots evenḡ, & mornḡ on ye N. W. Wall
By Edward, in Every Man in his Humour (1.2.64-65), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
– plaies the
Hespian Dragon wth his Fruit
By Edward, in Every Man in his Humour (1.2.89), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 27
 
2
– So jealous as if you’d parallel Old Arg9 to him you
must multiply his eyes a 100 times. of these none sleepe.
He yt would charme ye heaviest lidd must hire a better
Mercury yn Jove made use of.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (1.1.283-87), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28
 
– He thus lessons his wife;
a retir’d sweet life, Private, & close, & still, & housewifely
becomes a wife, sets of ye grace of woman. At home to be
beleev’d both young. & handsome, As lillies yt are cas’d in chry= stall glasses, Makes up ye wonder: shew it abroad, ‘tis stale. &
still ye more eyes cheapen it, ‘tis more slubberd. And wt need
windows open to inviting? or evening Tarrases to take opi nions? wn ye most wholsome aire blows inwards, wn good thoughts
are yn noblest companions, & old chast stories ye best discourses. --
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (2.2.1-12), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28
 
The 100000 dreams now yt possesse him of jealousy, & of
revenge & frailty.
By Angelo Milanes, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.17-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28
 
3. –
R.
did he not take measure of my sheets?
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (81-82), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 28
 
2
Can you wth one hand prop a falling tower or wth the
other stop ye raging maine wn it breaks in on ye usurped
shore, or any th. ] yt is imposs? then conclude yt there is some
way left to move him to compassion ----
By Octavio, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.6-11), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 29
 
Drake’s old ship at Detford may sooner circle ye
world again
By Edward, in Every Man in his Humour (1.3.93-94), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 29
 
If ev this be, I’ll be guelt, & troll
Ballads for Mr. Jo. Trundle yond ye rest of my Mortality
By Edward, in Every Man in his Humour (1.3.46-47), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 29
 
--Go kindle Fire wth Snow—
By Julia, in Two Gentlemen of Verona (2.4.994), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 29
 
2.
tame silence ( ye balme of ye oppressed )
By Octavio, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.23-24), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 30
 
– though my
wrongs were centipli’d upō mys.. I could be patient –
By Jacintha, in The Spanish Curate (1.2.28-29), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 30
 
2.
they wth joy behold ye Modells of yr youth, & as yr root
decaies those budding branches Sprout forth, & flourish to
renew yr age.
By DonHenrique, in The Spanish Curate (1.3.15-17), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 31
 
– In Spain they eat noth. but herbs &
get noth. but greene sawce. Some pore labourers ꝑhaps
once in 7 yeare wth helping one another produce some
few pin’d butt prints, yt scarce hold ye christ’ning neither.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.1.66-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 31
 
2.
ye lawyers man handled his wives case. a law point were
worth ye canvassing.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (2.3.143-45), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
 
– ploughd wth his
fine white heifer.
By Arsenio, in The Spanish Curate (2.3.12-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
– crown’d ye Lawyer a learned monst
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (2.4.16-28), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
-- a thick ram headed knave –
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (5.2.85), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
5
– turn pand to his likerish kisses, while he wipes my mouth
wth a codpeice knighthood.
By Sir Pertenax, in The Virgin Widow (1.2.6-7), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
– I must be dubd forsooth, & gain
ye glorious attribute of a right worfull cuckold.
By Sir Pertenax, in The Virgin Widow (1.2.12-13), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
– Play ye
wanton prince into ye saddle, or hold his stirrop.
By Sir Pertenax, in The Virgin Widow (1.2.17-18), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
5.
yr wives like, Indentures, intchangeable.
By Formidon, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.14-15), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 32
 
3.
How ye thing lookes!
By Beaupre, in The Little French Lawyer (2.1.80), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
3.
– he speakes accordg to the phrase triumphant. –
By , in not in source (2.3.64), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
4.
– now swoln so high yt he is shun’d of all faire societies.
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.59), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
I look down upō him wth such content, & scorne As on my
slave.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.91-92), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
compare wth mee? tis giantlike ambition.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.99-100), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
- yor too many excellencies, yt feed y or pride, turne to a Phi:
nity, & kill, wt they shd no wish, Vertue –
By Manuel, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.141-43), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 33
 
2.
If I stood here to plead an evill cause,
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.66-67), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 34
 
It would be req= site I shd deck my Language wth tropes, & figures, & all flou- rishes yt grace a Rhetorician. Adultate metals need ye gold= smith’s art to set em of. wt in its. is ꝑfect contemns a bor= rowed glosse.
By Bartolus, in The Spanish Curate (3.3.70-75), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 34
 
a lawyer yt entangles all
mens honesties. & lives like a spider in a cobweb lurking, &
catching at all flies yt passe his pittfalls. puts powder to
all states to make ‘em caper.
By Lopez, in The Spanish Curate (4.5.166-70), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 35
 
– Noth. wth in, but he, &
his lawtempet.
By Diego, in The Spanish Curate (4.7.31), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 35
 
2.
wn wee are red wth murther, lett us often bath in blood,
the col or will be scarlet.
By Don Jamie, in The Spanish Curate (5.2.137-39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36
 
3.
– R.
–As you had a mother
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (5.1.62-64), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36
 
4
– now you feast on my miseries
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (86-87), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 36
 
3
yt daring vice for wch ye whole age suffers. The blood or bold
youth yt heeretofore was spent in hoble action Or to defend or
to enlarge ye kingd.. Poures its. out wth Odd p abbreviation: check MUFI pdigall expence upō or
mothers lap ye earth, yt bred us, for evy trifle.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.12-15), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
And I have heard
yt some of or late Ks (of France Sr) For ye wearing of a Mistris
feathers, a cheat at cards, or dice Have lost as many gallt gentle
men, as might have mett ye great Turk in ye feild, wth confidence
of a glorious Victory.
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.29-35), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
‘Tis banisht frō all civill govnemts
scarce 3 in Venice in as many years, in Florence they are rarer
& in all ye faire dominions of ye Sp. K. They’re nev heard of—
By Cleremont, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.22-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
 
flesht & enterd bravely at 15.
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.49-50), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
Chosen to compound quarells, as pore men seek arbitrators
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.55-56), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
– studied in all ye criticismes of contention
By Dinant, in The Little French Lawyer (1.1.60-61), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
— quarrell wth this gentlem
for wearing staell breeches. or this gamest for playing a
1000 to yt owes me noth.ḡ &c
By , in not in source (1.1.86-89), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
—Mine is noe Helens beauty, to be purchast wth blood—
By Lamira, in The Little French Lawyer (1.3.58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 37
 
he’s so swift
giving ground, there is noe ovtaking him wth out a hun= ting nag well breath’d too—
By , in not in source (1.2.12-14), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 38
 
--was there noe tree, to for or riv to force thy life out
backward or to drowne it, but yt thou must survive thy
infamy? & kill me wth ye sight of one I hate, & gladly
would forgett.
By Champernel, in The Little French Lawyer (3.1.11-17), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 38
 
4.
Hide not yt bitt pill I loath to swallow in such sweet words.
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.92-93), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 39
 
4.
his very looks are faire examples. his comon & indiff.
actions Rules, & strong ties of vertue —
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.118-120), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
You are so heavenly good, no man can reach you
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.248), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
-- shd she dye robbḡ this age of all yt ’s good, or gracefull.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.25-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
--O yn dread power yt mads’t this All, & of thy workmanship
this maid ye mastpeice, look down on her &c.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.1-3), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
– Let iocence,
to wch all passages in heaven stand open Appear in her white
robe before thy throne & mediate for her –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.7-10), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
-- a nation laden wth admir’d example—
By Guiomar, in The Custom of the Country (5.5.13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 40
 
4.
wt sacrifice of thanks, wt age of service, wt danger of
more dreadf look yn death, wt willing martyrdome &c may
merit such a goodnesse &c
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.129-132), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 41
 
– Lett me first fall
Before y or feet & on you pay ye duty I ow yor goodnes. next all blessings to you may you ever be the Goddesse stil’d of
hospitalitie.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.4.114-119), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 41
 
4.
– one I hate, as heaven hates falshood.
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.108), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42
 
– this hearte
hates you, as you were born my full antipathy
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.236-37), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42
 
-- I’d love yt villain first, had cutt my fathers throat.—
By Hippolyta, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.125-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 42
 
4
– a p of shackles will hang tighter on you & a quartain
fever find you quieter
By Zenocia, in The Custom of the Country (1.1.325-26), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 43
 
4.
give me some wine & fill it till it leap upō my lipps.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (1.2.33-34), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 44
 
Lett ye wines be lusty, & high, & full of spirit and amberd all.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.5-6), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 44
 
4.
Hee’s a name onely. & all good in him He must derive frō
his great grandsires ashes. For had not yr victorious acts be-
queath’d His titles to him, & wrot on his forehead This is a
Ld, he had liv’d unobserv’d By any man of mark, & dyed as
one Among ye coon rout.
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.94-104), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 45
 
yt man is truly noble, & he
may justly call yt worth his own, wch his deserts have purchast.
I could wish my birth were more obscure &c—
By Duarte, in The Custom of the Country (2.1.101-04), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 45
 
4
– wee are stangers, wonderous hungry strangers, & charity
growing cold, & miracles ceasing, wth out a conjuerers help, I
cannot find wn wee shall eat againe.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.5-8), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 46
 
– hope is a
poor sallad to dine, & sup wth aft a 2 daies fast too.
By Rutilo, in The Custom of the Country (2.3.21-22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 46
 
4.
well, blind fortune, thou hast ye prettiest changes,
wn thou it pleas’d to play thy game out wantonly –
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (3.2.37-39), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 47
 
--another smile. another trick of fortune to deceive us.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.204-05), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 47
 
4.
– ye tempest well met wth at sea were smooth gales
compar’d to those, ye memory of my lusts raisd in my consc.
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (3.5.2-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 48
 
--Then we live indeed, wn we can goe to rest wth out a larum Given evy mintue to a guiltsick consc.. To keep
us wakḡ, & rise in ye mornḡ secure in being iocent; but
wn yn the remembr. of or worser actions we ev bear about us whips,
& furies To make ye day a night of sorrow to us Even life’s a
burthen .----
By Doctor, in The Custom of the Country (4.1.6-14), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 48
 
4. a Bravo.
pay him, & hee’l do anyth.ḡ tho hell stood
in his way.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (2.4.1-2), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49
 
He has a strange aspect, & looks much like ye
figure of a hangman. In a table of ye passion.
By Leopold, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.3-5), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49
 
– a fleshd
ruffian, who hath so often taken ye strappado, yt tis to him but
as a lofty trick Is to a tumbler. he hath perus’d too all
dungeons in ye kingd.. thrice 7 yeares row’d in ye gallies
for 3 sevall murthers. & scapt unpunisht for a 100.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.6-13), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49
 
He will kill a man for 10 pistolets.
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.22), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49
 
but will not beat him und 500. for yn he may rec ov, & be reveng’d: But a dog yt’s dead will nev bite, s ye Span. ꝑvb.
By Bravo, in The Custom of the Country (4.2.26-7), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 49
 
4.
– more misery? more ruine? Under wt angry starre is
my life govnd?
By Clodio, in The Custom of the Country (4.3.201-02), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 50
 
-- advse fortune bandying us from
one hazard to another.
By Arnoldo, in The Custom of the Country (5.4.57-58), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 50
 
4
– a 2d Hecate, ye great coandress of ye fatall sisters,
yt as she pleases can outshort, or lengthen ye thread of life—
By Zabulon, in The Custom of the Country (5.2.22-25), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 51
 
5
— yn lett evlasting health be entaild upō ye sons of men &
lett ye curse of a strong ↄstitution fall upō makind, if I &c
By Artesio, in The Virgin Widow (1.3.2-5), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 53
 
If they happen upō a man of fortunes. one yt deserves to take up
life at intest, & to buy his languishmt at a profuse rate how
will they prolong ye care, & make the best advantage?
By Artesio, in The Virgin Widow (1.3.40-44), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 53
 
-- this wth ye help of a gold nightcap a few conjuring
words, & a large consc. will go far & sett me up in a market towne
where I may pass for a Padua Dr. ‘Tis but Italianatḡ my
name, garb, language, habit. Seignor Quackꝗnto. &c
By Quck, in The Virgin Widow (2.1.33-35), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 53
 
Mountebanks if yr knavy be discovd in one place
By , in not in source (2.6.30-40), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 53
 
5
– a wife wth Cornelius his motion in her mouth.
By Formidon, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.7-9), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 54
 
= her louder tongue Outrores ye thunđ, & her flaming eyes
Outscorches Etna; her impetuous rage Out- devills ye whole
Academe of hell.
By Comodus, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.54-56), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 54
 
– devills troup in her stormy tongue.
By Pertenax, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.61-62), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 54
 
Her very breath’s a purge. Her eyes.
By Pertenax, in The Virgin Widow (3.2), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 54
 
Bid me go snatch a daring thunđbolt, Or twi-forkt light= nḡ frō the hand of Jove: Bid me go stop ye flowing tides,
Or stay A singing bullet in ye middle way. Bid me goe
tame a dragon &c This were an easy task; nay easier
farre To slack hells falmes, yn quench Marina’s rage.
By Comodus, in The Virgin Widow (1.4.64-70), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 54
 
5
First bait thy hook wth deep dissembled love. Keep close thy
serpt, & shew ym thy dove seem friend to both.
By Evaldus, in The Virgin Widow (3.6.25-26), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 55
 
-- hee’l teach you more wisd. in an hower yn all ye volume’s
of Th. A ꝗnas can afford you in 10 daies.
By Quibble, in The Virgin Widow (4.1.185-87), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 55
 
5.
I stand evenpoysd: an atome turns ye scale.
By Palla, in The Virgin Widow (3.6.100), Francis Quarles
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 56
 
Confidence, thou paint of women, & ye Statesman’s
wisdom, Valor for cowards, & ye Guiltie ’s Innocence,
Assist me now
By , in not in source (4.1.23-26), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 58
 
—Danger, thou dwarf, drest up
in gyants cloths, yt shew’st farr of still great yn yu art.
By Thersames, in Aglaura (4.1.23-26), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 58
 
I have conceiv’d of Joy, & am grown great. Till I have
safe delivrance, time’s a cripple, & goes on crutches—
By King, in Aglaura (4.1.23-26), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 59
 
Joyes are or Hopes, stript of yr Fears.
By Aglaura, in Aglaura (5(t).11.133), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 59
 
Anticks, & strange mis-shapes, such as ye porter
to my soul, my eye, was ne’re acqted wth fancy letts in.
By Aglaura, in Aglaura (5(c).1.99-101), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 60
 
I’ve gott such a cold, yt a Bittern whooping in a Reed
is bettr Musick: but yet as free, as ye Musitians of ye Wood.
By Orsames, in Aglaura (5(c).1.99-****), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 61
 
--rare, & un–in-one-breath-utterable skill
By Matthew, in Every Man in his Humour (1.5.98), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
I love a cleanly, & a quiet privacy Above all ye
Tumult & ye Roar of fortune
By Bobadill, in Every Man in his Humour (1.5.39-40), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
--studies ye languages of hawkḡ, & huntḡ, more
yn ye Gr. or Lat.
By Master Stephen, in Every Man in his Humour (1.5.39-40), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Who make a child now swadled to
proceed Man, & then shoot up in one beard, & weed
past 60 years: Or with 3 rusty swords, And help
of some few foot & half foot words Fight over
York & Lanc.rs long Wars, And in ye tiring house
bring wounds to scars.
By Prologue, in Every Man in his Humour (Prologue.6-12), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
No Chorus wafts you
ore ye seas, Nor creakḡ Throne comes down the
Boies to please; Nor nimble sqb is seen, to make
afeard the Gentlewomen; nor rolld Bullet heard
To say it thunders, nor tempestuous drum rum
bles to tell you, when the storm doth come.
By Prologue, in Every Man in his Humour (Prologue.15-20), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
I have ō in my face so much steel of Iodesty
By Ariosto, in The Miseries of Inforc't Marriage (Act1), George Wilkins
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
-a sweet unclouded Brow, ye heav. where true worth moves
By Prologue, in The Wonder of a Kingdom (Prologue), Thomas Dekker
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Decemb cold hand combs my head, but May swims in my blood.
By Nicoletto Vanni, in The Wonder of a Kingdom (1.1), Thomas Dekker
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
The G. of Metalls, ye great Alchymist (ye Sunn)
By Torrenti, in The Wonder of a Kingdom (3.1), Thomas Dekker
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
A pirate, a pickled Theif.
By Torrenti, in The Wonder of a Kingdom (4.1), Thomas Dekker
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Springe, & falls, ye 2 indies of physitians
By Jacomo Gentili, in The Wonder of a Kingdom (4.1), Thomas Dekker
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
The Chessgame I would call the Strife of Witts
By Tales, in Sir Giles Goosecap (4.1.6), George Chapman
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Eat yor Meat on other Men’s
Trenchers, & Beware of Surfets on yor own cost.
By Momford, in Sir Giles Goosecap (4.1.64-65), George Chapman
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
While by such Majesty our scorne is drest,
You come both th’ Enterteiner, & the Guest
By Prologue, in The Royal Slave (Prol1.11-12), William Cartwright
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
We think it no great Trespass, if we do
Sin ore or Trifle once again to you
By Prologue, in The Royal Slave (Prol2.13-14), William Cartwright
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Flowers in your Bosoms stuck shall come fro thence
Double pfum'd & deeper strike ye Sense
By Prologue, in The Royal Slave (Prol3.17-18), William Cartwright
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 68
 
Each step I tread, I'll water wth a tear,
By Lauretta, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (1.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
- as plain to mee, qu. ’twere writt upon thy Brow.
By Prince of Parma, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (1.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
The Genal breathd his own undaunted spirit on us, wch spread
thro ye whole camp, & return’d it doubly arm’d again.
By A Soldier of Sforza's, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (1.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Oh
‘twas a glor. sight! fit for a Theat of Gs to see
By A Soldier of Sforza's, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (1.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
He weeps, yt late did rail. thunder turn’d to showers
By Prince of Parma, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (2.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
were all Men such I shd be sorry, yt a Man begot me.
By Julia, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (2.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
--a praier for him yt gives, & a pox for him yt gives No thḡ.
By Clown, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (2.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Do; edge yor teeth wth unripe Grapes: I’ll stay ye season.
By Stroza, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (4.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
-- a weighty Busines would make Atlas bend his head to’s Heel.
By Duke of Milan, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (4.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
He lies, below his Entrails, yt dares say so.
By Stroza, in A Maidenhead Well Lost (5.1), Thomas Heywood
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Wn women go to Law, ye Devil is full of Business
By Prologue, in The Devil's Law Case (Prol3.17-18), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Vertue is evr sowing of her seeds, in ye trenches for ye soldiers
in ye wakef. study for ye scholar, in ye furrows of ye sea
for ye merchant: & thence springs up Honor
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (1.1.60-64), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
ye soul of
Wealth.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (1.1.91), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
– Cruelty appareld in Kindness.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (2.3.161), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
I can have no sweeter air to fly in, yn yor Breath.
By Contarino, in The Great Duke of Florence (1.1.123-124), Philip Massinger
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
I have a suit to you.
By , in not in source (1.1.134-135), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Would I ever have my picture drawn, the painter should steal it, when wn I were devoutly kneelḡ at my praiers:
There then a heavenly Beauty in the face: the soul
moves in the Superficies—
By Leonora, in The Devil's Law Case (1.1.134-135), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Man’s Experience is Womens best Eye-sight.
By Leonora, in The Devil's Law Case (1.1.169-170), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Noble Houses, have no such goodly propects any way
as into yor own Land
By Leonora, in The Devil's Law Case (1.1.175-177), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Women’s choice, like bees, lights oft on flowers, as oft on Weeds
By , in not in source (1.1.199), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Fain’d Tears, like an April showre in Sunshine
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (1.2.107), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
--kiss yt tear away: you’ll find ye Rose ye sweet for ye Dew
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (1.2.118-119), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
--Force one to marry? Worse yn inclosḡ of com ons.
By , in not in source (1.2.191-192), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Who fains friendship, deserves to be hang'd, rather, than
he, yt counterfeits Money.
By , in not in source (1.2.238-239), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
He swallows, qu. he liv’d by chewing of ye cud
By Sanitonella, in The Devil's Law Case (2.1.46-47), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Dogs many times hunt Lordships to a fault.
By Sanitonella, in The Devil's Law Case (2.1.64), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
Keep yor Hat on ye block; ‘ twill hold fashion ye longer.
By , in not in source (2.1.143-144), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
-- Loves ō M. like a p of Tarriers; would undo him quickly
By , in not in source (2.1.143-144), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
--Graves & Vaults, wch often hid physitians faults.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (2.3.98-99), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
-- ‘twould fill more volumes in shorthand than all
ye evidence of Churchland
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (2.3.98-99), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
So sails wth Fore-winds stretcht do soonest break;
And pyramids o’th’Top are still most weak.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (2.3.169-170), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
--no more Right, to’t, yn false Execrs have in orphan’s Goods, they cozen them of
By , in not in source (2.3.169-170), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 69
 
One cured of ye Gout; by being rackt in ye Tower.
By , in not in source (3.2.156), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
- an excellent physitian: Why he can kill his 20 in a
month & work but i’th’ Forenoons.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (3.2.43-44), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
--the Court shd be As a bright Chrystall mirror to
the world, to dress its. by. Could the Excellency of the place have wrought Sal=vatiŏ, ye Devil had new faln fro Heaven.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (3.3.10-15), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
I am 20 years older, since you spoke last.
By Leonora, in The Devil's Law Case (3.3.213-214), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Ignoramus shall wear his spatious Inkhorn all a
vacatiŏ, only to c u re tetters: & his penknife to
weed corns fro ye splay toes of ye right worfull
By , in not in source (4.1.33, 51-54), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Let fear dwell wth earthquakes, Shipwracks at sea,
or prodigies in Heaven: I cannot sett mys so many
fathom beneath ye true height of my Heart, as Fear.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.85-88), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
The Devil, & the Attorneys stand on each hand, to
prompt the Lawyers memory, where he founders.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.140-141), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
As base, qe. he had bought his Gentry frō ye Herald
with money got by Extortion:
By Contilupo, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.106-108), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
yet in a saucy
pride ( as mushrooms grow ev rankest when they
spring frō Dunghills) would sett hims. above all.
By Contilupo, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.116-118), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
-this poor thḡ wth out a Name. This cuckow hatcht
in ye neast of a hedgesparrow.
By Contilupo, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.121-123), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Like a giant in a
Maygame, that is within nothing but a porter.
By Contilupo, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.121-123), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Hard hearted creatures:
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.299-302), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
-fain to dance Lacrymae at a Carts tail.
By Sanitonella, in The Devil's Law Case (4.2.299-302), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
-They weave but Netts, to catch ye Wind.
By Romelio, in The Devil's Law Case (5.4.129), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
-The Ravens feather is as sleek as the mole on Venus
cheek. Nevr mind the skin, But the jewel, that’s within.
By Jolenta, in The Devil's Law Case (5.6.35-), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
- wthout controll, There's no tru beauty but i’th’soul
By Jolenta, in The Devil's Law Case (5.6.348-49), John Webster
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
An ominous face, markt for disasters.
By Albumazar, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN440-441), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
His smooth Brow shines with good news, his visage promiseth Trophies & Triumphs to us.
By Albumazar, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN106-108), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Good news more
powerf. to renew Age, yn Medeas drugs.
By Pandolfo, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN168-170), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
Be watchfull: have as many eyes, as Argus & as
many ears as harvest.
By Albumazar, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN78-79), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
were all ye Houses in ye town prisons, ye chambers
cages, all ye settles stocks, ye broad Gates Gallowses
& ye whole people Justices, Juries, Constables
I’d practise in spight of all_
By Ronca, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN83-87), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
This poët is yt poët s plagiary, & he a third’s
till they all end in Homr.
By Harpax, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN56-57), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
If I keep’t longer,
‘Twill grow Impostume in my Breast, & choak me
By Trincalo, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN893-894), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 70
 
How slow ye day slides on: When we desires Times
hast, it seems to lose a Match wth Lobsters: & wn
we wish him stay, he imps his Wings wth Feathers
plum’d with thought.
By Pandolfo, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN969-972), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
Why shd I twine my Arms to Cables? sigh my soul to
Air? sit up all night like a watchḡ candle? Distill
my brains thro my eyes?
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN1114-1116), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
-- They’ll descend frō ye top of Pls to the bottom, & on
each step strow ptg complemts; & strive for a door
while a good Carpenter might make one.
By Trincalo, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN1345-1348), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
--for whom I speny such streams of tears & Gusts of Sighs.
By Bevilona, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN1523-1524), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
The right Ey is ō liker to the left than he to him —
By , in not in source (TLN1748-1749), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
Is your Door fast?
By Flavia, in The Fancies, Chaste and Noble (TLN1822-1823), John Ford
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
Whom do you draw yor tongue upo so sharply?
By Lelio, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN1861), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
So wise, qu. he had Eat nothing but brains & marrow
of Machiavell: tips his speech with Ital. motti; spanish
Refranes & English Quoth-Hees. Beleeve me, not a
a provb falts yor tongue, but plants whole colonies
of white Hairs.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN2282-2287), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
Fy! Wise Lovers are m. absurd.
By Sulpitia, in The Custom of the Country (TLN2295-2296), Francis Beaumont
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
-Chides me, & loves. This is ye pleasḡ Temp I admire, more yn otinued sweetn. Tis Salt I love, not Sugar.
By Lelio, in Albumazar: A Comedy (TLN2313-2315), Thomas Tomkis
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
By all ye powers yt hear Oaths, & rain Vengeance
upon broken Faith, I promise—
By , in not in source (TLN2508-2510), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
They could find no room for me in all yr Kalendar; let every pety martyr take place of me; Roch, Maies, & Pecronell, Itch - & _ Ague – Curer; ye wid. Marcel, parson polycarp, Cicely, & Urslie; & but for ye Bissextile (wn I fall by chance into ye 29 of Febr.) there were no place for me See yr love & Consc.
to thrust a lame soldier into Leap-year.
By Ignatius Loyola, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (Induction.18-33), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
 
 
Far clearer yn ye Innocence of Infants
By , in not in source (1.1.6), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
The privat’st Thought, yt runs to hide itself in ye m. secret
corn of your Heart, must be of my Acquaintance.
By , in not in source (1.1.124-126), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
--an Accident, which Modesty forbids me to put Language to
By Virgin White Queen's Pawn, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (1.1.145-147), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
-- Deeds would make Night blush & wch shame Creation
By Virgin White Queen's Pawn, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (1.1.223-225), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
To many a Soul he letts in Mortal poison, who’s cheeks
have cracks wth Laught. to receive it:
sugar’d syllabls they took yr Bane in way of Recreation
By Virgin White Queen's Pawn, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (1.1.223-225), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 71
 
 
- valu’d above ye fleece of Gold.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (1.1.327-328), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
- yt voice rings ye Alarm of my undoing.
By , in not in source (2.1.151), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Tis a m. Ldly Life to Eat, & drink ye Fatt
of one Kḡdom & rail upo another wth ye Juyce of’t
I wrote this Book out of ye strength & marrow of
36 Dishes at a Meal: but most of it out of the Cullis of Cock sparrows
By Fat Bishop Spalato, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.18-21), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Gondomar ye Fistula of Europe.
By Fat Bishop Spalato, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.41), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Being in great pain, Spaletto told him he had a present Cure for him:
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.41), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Be
ing Executiŏ day, he shewd him ye Hangm. fro ye Window
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.65-67), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Impudent! For thy sake at this Minute modesty suf
fers all yt 's vertuous, blushes; & Truth like ye sun
vext wth a Mist, looks red wth Anger.
By , in not in source (2.2.143-147), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
O ye Treasure of my Revenge: I can spend it all
on thee; Enough to spare for all thy kindred too.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.185-187), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Fathomless Falshood! will it scape unblasted?
By Virgin White Queen's Pawn, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.202), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Aretins pictures, the more yn 12 of Luxury.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (2.2.248-9), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
His pen draws blood frō ym. he never writes, but their cause bleeds.
By , in not in source (3.1.1-2), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Palm-oil will make a pursuivant relent; Muzzle
ye barkḡ Tongue men of ye time.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3..1.101-103), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
My light spleen skips & shakes my ribs to think on’t
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3.1.101-103), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Thy consc. is tender hoof’d; every nail pricks it.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3.1.118), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
I’ll undertake, hee’ll teach ye Devil to lie.
By White Duke of Buckingham, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3.1.204-205), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Hast seen a Globe stand on ye Table
in my closet? drawn wth lines, Tropic
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3.1.132-134), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Just such a
thḡ my Brain will be, if ere my skull be opend.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (3.1.137-138), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
O there’s a Traitor leapt frō my Heart into my
cheek yt will betray all.
By Virgin White Queen's Pawn, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (4.1.54-56), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
R.
I feel no tempest, my consc. is becalmed.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (4.2.38-40), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Look! would you see Destruction lie a sunning?
In yonder smile sits Blood, & Treachery basking;
In yt fidious Model of Face, Falshood. Hell is
drawn grinning.
By White Duke of Buckingham, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (4.4.13-17), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Thick Darkness dwells this houre.
By White Queen of Bohemia, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (4.4.52), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
This devil may challenge ye chief chair in hell; &
sitt above his master.
By White Queen of Bohemia, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.2.73-74), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
--covetous as ye grave or barren Womb.
By White Knight Charles, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.107), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
Adultery wth ym ye trifle of a Vice; a meer innocent
By White Duke of Buckingham, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.124-125), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
‘tis all ye fruit, they have after supp. At ye ruine of a
Nunnery 6000 infants Head found in a Fishpond.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.128-130), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
--Like envies Issue or a bed of snakes.
By White King James, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.184), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 72
 
 
--Savile, theres no Name for’t. Toads have their titles
& Creatio gave Serpts & Adders those names to be
known by.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.142-145), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 73
 
Dissemblḡ is yr prime state vertue ye policy of Em
pires, ye Instrument, yt picks ope princes Hearts, & locks
up yr own
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.150-151), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 73
 
You never came so nigh or souls as now.
By Black Knight Gondomar, in A Game at Chess: A Later Form (5.3.157), Thomas Middleton
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 73
 
--some whirlwind bear it unto a ragged, fearf. hangḡ
Rock, & throw it thence into ye raging sea
By Julia, in Two Gentlemen of Verona (1.2.117-119), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
But wt I will, I will, & theres an End.
By Antonio, in Two Gentlemen of Verona (None), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
resembleth well Th’uncertain Glory of an April-day,
now shewes all ye beauty of ye sun; And by, & by
a cloud takes all away
By Proteus, in Two Gentlemen of Verona (None), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
you may as soon kindle fire, wth snow as
By Julia, in Two Gentlemen of Verona (TLN994), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
--(for so I’ve strewd it in ye Comon Ear; & tis believ’d:) —
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN305), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
His blood is very snow-broth, feels not ye wanton stings &
motions of sense, rebates yr edge wth with Study & Fastg orig-fasting reg-fast
By Lucio, in Measure for Measure (TLN409-413), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
O doubts are Traitors! Lose us much Good by fearg to attempt
By Lucio, in Measure for Measure (TLN433-435), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
They make a scare-crow of ye Law, set up to fear the
Birds of prey. But it doth keep one shape till Cus= tom make it Their perch, & ō their Terror.
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN451-454), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
Th’Jury passg on a pris’ns Life may in ye sworn XII
have a Theif or 2 Guiltier yn him they trie.
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN470-472), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
This story will last out a night in Russia, Wn nights
are longest there.
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN586-587), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
No Ceremony, yt belongs to great Ones 'longs, Not ye Kings
crown, nor yet ye Deputie’s sword, The Marshals Trun= =cheon, nor ye Judges robe Become them wth one half
so good a Grace, As Mercy dothdoes. –
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN809-813), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
Why all ye Souls
yt were, were forfeit once, And He yt might ye Van= =tage best have took, Found out ye Remedy.
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN826-827), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
Stones whose Rate Is rich or poor as Fancy values ye
By , in not in source (TLN909-910), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
Havg wast Ground enough shall we desire to raze
ye Sanctuary, And pitch o evils there?
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN933-935), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
desire to hear sir speak again, & feast upō her Eyes.
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN941-942), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
an idle plume, wch the Air beats for vain
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN1013-1014), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 75
 
Life would I wast for you, like taper-light;
By Gower, in Pericles (TLN16-17), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Think
Death no hazzd in this enterprise
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN49), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Her Face ye book of praises, where is read Nothing
but excellent. --
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN60-61), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Before thee stand ye fair
Hespides, wth golden fruit, But dangerous to be
toucht, for Death like Dragons fright thee
By Antiochus, in Pericles (TLN72-74), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
My sad companion dulleyd Melancholy. Not the
daies glorious wa’lk can breed me qet Nor peacef.
night, ye Tomb where Grief shd sleep.
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN225-228), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Ill take thy Word for faith, not ask thy Oath;
who shuns not to break one, will sure crack both.
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN344-345), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
He was a wise fellow, yt being bid to as wt he would
of ye K desir’d, he might know none of his secrets.
By Thaliard, in Pericles (TLN353-355), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
This were to blow ye fire in hope to quench it.
For Who digs down Hills, bec. they do aspire, Throws down
One Mountain, to cast up a higher.
By Dionyza, in Pericles (TLN395-396), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
‘Groves being
topt rise higher.
By Dionyza, in Pericles (TLN399), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
– thirsty of totter honor
By Cerimon, in Pericles (TLN1238), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Her riches strewd/strew'd yss even in ye streets;
Her Towers bore Heads so high, they kept ye clouds.
By Cleon, in Pericles (TLN414-415), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
What need we Fear? The Ground’s ye lowest; And
we are half way there.
By Cleon, in Pericles (TLN468-470), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
fishmen live at land, as fish do in the sea ;The great ones stil eat up ye little ones.
By Cleon, in Pericles (TLN579), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
N ev leaves
gaping till he hath swallowed Whole parishes;
Church, Steeple, Bells, & All.
By , in not in source (TLN582-583), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Things must be as the may, & wt a man can’t get,
he may fancifully deal for his Wives Soul.
By First Fisherman, in Pericles (TLN558-559), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Her ey-lids, cases to those heavenly Jewels, Begin to
pt ye fringes of bright gold, Those diamonds of best
water now appear make ye World rich again —
By Cerimon, in Pericles (TLN1298-1302), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
When I describ’d her, his mouth so watterd, He went to
Bed to her very Description.
By Boult, in Pericles (TLN1617-1618), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Thunder doth not so
wake ye Beds of Eels as my description stird ye lewdly
inclin’d.
By Boult, in Pericles (TLN1659-1660), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
– She sings, like one imortal.
By Gower, in Pericles (TLN1968), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
--serve 7 years in ye Wars ye loss of a leg, & at last
not have money enough to buy a wooden one.
By Boult, in Pericles (TLN1941-1942), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
-- gaz’d on, like a comet,
By Marina, in Pericles (TLN2069), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
wandlike strait. as silver= -voic’d. her eyes Jewel-like, in pace another Juno.
She starves ye ears she feeds, & make ym hungry.
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN2090-2093), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Oh stop a little! Tis ye rarest dream That ere dull
Sleep did mock sad Fools wth all. This cannot be.
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN2140-2142), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Put me to pain, lest ys greatest sea of Joys rush upo me ore bear
ye shores of my mortality, & drown me wth yor sweetness.
By Pericles, in Pericles (TLN2170-2173), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 76
 
Not a word more, peace! for wakḡ the children.
By , in not in source (TLN2043), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
So well exprienc’d in this tottering world.
By Luce, in not in source (TLN1247), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Hot as a turnspit, nimble as a Fencer, lousy as a scholem.
By George Py-bord, in The Puritan Widow (TLN170-172), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
His Belly is much beholdḡ to His Brains.
By George Py-bord, in The Puritan Widow (TLN1215), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Charity fro a puritan? I’ll soon expect mcy fro an usurer, when my Bond’s forfeited; kindn fro a Lawyer, wn my money’s spent. I look for Relief from him, wn Lucifer is restor’d to his bloud, & in Heav. again.
By Captain Idle, in The Puritan Widow (TLN444-449), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
I’ll tell thee All &; we’ll steep or Eyes in Laughter.
By George Py-bord, in The Puritan Widow (TLN1473-1474), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
It sticks like ship-pitch on a Mariners Coat.
By Captain Idle, in The Puritan Widow (TLN1604-52), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
-- Shakes, As if there were an Earthquake in his Loins.
By George Py-bord, in The Puritan Widow (TLN1604-52), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
pd one half in hand & took Domesday for ye other.
By Muckhill, in The Puritan Widow (TLN2241-2242), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
That Mortgage sits like a snaffle upon mine inhe-=ritance, & makes me chaw upon Iron.
By Husband, in A Yorkshire Tragedy (TLN135-136), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
The Devil, I think keeps open House in him—
By Servingman, in A Yorkshire Tragedy (TLN135-136), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
The gentleman’s palsy i’the’hand strikes all away —
By Husband, in A Yorkshire Tragedy (TLN465), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
-- Devines may talk of Hell, but in my Heart
her Several Torments dwell.
By Husband, in A Yorkshire Tragedy (TLN486-487), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Where ere Aurora, Handmaid of ye sun, Where Ere
ye sun, bright Guardian of ye day, wth cheerf. light
illuminates ye world, The Trojans Glorie flies
wth Golden wings
By Corin, in Locrine (TLN88-92), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Begotten, & born in ye wane of the Moon, wn evy thḡ goes aukward
By Strumbo, in Locrine (TLN313-317), Anonymous
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
-- Weak as a Woman’s tear, Tamer yn sleep, fonder yn
Ignorance, As fearf. as a Virgin in ye Night, as skill-less
as unpractis’d Infancy.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN44-47), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
(repeat
-instead of Oil & Balm
Thou laist in evy Gash ye Knife, yt made it.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN96-97), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
She is as fair on Friday as Helen was on Sunday.
By Pandarus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN110), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Strong as ye Axel tree on which the heavens ride.
By Ulysses, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN525-526), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Troy in or Weakness lives, not in her strength.
By Ulysses, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN597), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
--a blush in her cheek, Modest, as Morn wn she cold= =ly eyes the youthf Phoebus.
By Aeneas, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN688-690), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
Thou Bitchwolfe Son. beefwitted,
By , in not in source (TLN870), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
soddenwitted Lord,
yt hath no more braine, yn I have in my Elbow: an
Asinego may Tutor thee.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN899-900), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
thou wear’st thy Wit in thy
Belly, & thy guts in thy Head.
By , in not in source (TLN927-928), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
- hast not so much Wit
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN933), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
as would stop ye Ey of a needle.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN935), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
thy pia mater is not
worth ye 9th pt of a farth.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (#TLN926-927), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
-- who’s youth & freshness Wrinckles Apollo’s, & make’s
stale ye morn.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1064-1063), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
The rich Advantage of a ꝑmis’d
Glory smiles on ye forehead of this Action.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1194-1195), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
 
warr’d for a placket
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1224-1225), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
(Thersites grand curse on Patroclus.
Thy self upon Thy self
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1231), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
The whole Argt of ye Troian fable, A cuckold & a Whore.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1275-1276), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 77
 
ye mortal Venus, ye heart-blood of Beauty. Love’s
visible Soul.
By Servant, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1509-1510), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
(kisses
This is In witness of the pties intchangeably
By , in not in source (TLN1689-1690), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
My thoughts are like unbridled children, grown
too headstrong for yr mother.
By Cressida, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1753-1754), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
As true as steel, as Turtle to her Mate, As Iron to
Adamant, as Earth to th’Center: And after all
comparisons of Truth, wn poëts Rhimes full of ptest & oth WantSsimiles (Truth tir’d with Iteration) As ture as Troilus shall crown up ye Verse)
& sanctify ye numbers.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1810-1816), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
Wn they have sd, as fals as Wind or Air, As Fox to
Lambs, as Stepdame to her son, Then let ȳ add
to stick ye Heart of Falshood, As false as Cressid.
By Cressida, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1825-1830), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
--bend, & come humbly, as they use to creep to H. Altars
By Patroclus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN1924-1926), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
--ruminates like an Hostess, yt hath no Arithmetiq
but her brain to set down her reckon —
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2109-2110), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
--stalks up, & down like a peacock; a stride, & a stand.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2109), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
yn bites his lip wth politiq regard, as who shd say,
There is Wit in his Head, & so there is If it would
out, but it lies coldly in him, as fire in Flint, wch
shews not out [knocking].
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2111-2115), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
(duel
Well; he shall pay for me, ere he has me
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2151), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
My mind is troubled like a Fontain stird, And
I mys. see not ye Bottom of it.
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2163-2164), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
-- My Love’s strong base is, as ye very Center of ye Earth: Draws all ths to it.
By Cressida, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2365-2367), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
-- ye manner of his Gate; he riseth on ye Toe.
By Ulysses, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2564-2565), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
Menelaus. -. – Ye Theme of all or Scorns, We Grecians
loose or Heads to gild his Horns.
By Ulysses, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2584), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
We 2 yt wth so many 1000 sighs Did buy each other,
must poorly sell ors. wth ye rude brevity, & discharge
of one. Injurious Time now wth a Robbers hast
Crams his rich Theevy up he know ō how.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2424-2429), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
troubles
up all or farewells in Adieu, & scants us
with a single famisht kiss.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2432-2435), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
-- One yt know ye man Even to his Inches, thus
translates him to me.
By Ulysses, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2672-2674), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
(Nestor
--good old Chronicle, yt has so long walkt hand in
hand wth Time
By Hector, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2770-2773), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
R.
R.
R.
Stand fair yt I may feed my Eys on thee,
By Hector, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2805-2828), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 78
 
-a falshearted rogue. I’ll no more trust him, when
he leers, yn I will a serpt wn he hisses. will spend his
mouth in promises but when he pforms, Astronomers
say it, tis pdigious. there will come some change. The
Sun borrows of ye moon, wn N. keeps his Word
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN2963-2967), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
He crokes, & bodes like a Raven
By Thersites, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN3191-3192), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Vengeance rides on his sword; spurs it to rufull Acts.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN3251-3252), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Hector is dead. yt word turns Priam stone, Makes
Wells, & Niobes of ye maids, & wives, Cools Statues
of ye youth.
By Troilus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN3553-3556), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
– ye hold- dore-trade.
By Pandarus, in Troilus and Cressida (TLN3587), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
 
His very walk’s a Jig. goes to Ch. in a Galliard, & comes home in a Coranto. & will not so much as make water, but in a cinquepace.
By Sir Toby Belch, in Twelfth Night (TLN235-237), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- saies hee’l stand at y Door like a Sheriff’s post, or
be supporter to a Bench, but he’ll speak with you.
By , in not in source (TLN441-442), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
‘Tis stand water wth him betw. boy, & Man.
By , in not in source (TLN452-453), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Will you hoist Sail, Sr? Here he’s y way.
By Maria, in Twelfth Night (TLN496), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
I’ll make ye bablḡ Gossip of ye Air repeat her Name.
By Viola, in Twelfth Night (TLN566-567), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Excellt fair! If G. did All R.
Tis in grain, Sr, ’Twill
Endure Wind & weather!
Tis Beauty truly blent, who
’s red & white Nre’s own sweet & cunn hand laid on.
By , in not in source (TLN529-531), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Love at 1st sight.
How qckly may one catch ye plague?
By Olivia, in Twelfth Night (TLN589-590), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
--hungry as ye sea & can digest as much.
By Orsino, in Twelfth Night (TLN987-988), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- wee’ll fool (jeer) him black & blew
By Sir Toby Belch, in Twelfth Night (TLN1025), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- twill make you laugh yourself into stiches
By Maria, in Twelfth Night (TLN1448), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
--A Gent. of ye greatest pmise, ere cam wthin my Note
By Archidamus, in Winter's Tale (TLN35-38), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
But my Affairs even drag me homeward now.
By Polixenes, in Winter's Tale (TLN78-79), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- had we children died, & or weak spirits ne’r been
higher reard wth stronger blood, we should have
answerd Heaven boldly, Not guilty—
By Polixenes, in Winter's Tale (TLN134-137), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
- would make a Julies day short as December
By Polixenes, in Winter's Tale (TLN249), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- wth Countenance as clear as Friendship wears at Feasts
By Camillo, in Winter's Tale (TLN444-445), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
The Marygold, yt goes to’ bed wth th’ Sun & wth him ris= seth weep.
By Perdita, in Winter's Tale (TLN1918-1919), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
Daffodils yt come before ye swallow daees.
Violets dim, but sweeter yn ye Lids of Juno’s Eyes, Or
Venus Breath, pale primroses, yt die unmarried,
bold Oxlips.
By Perdita, in Winter's Tale (TLN1932-1940), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
streakt gillyflowers, wch some call Nre’s
bastards, in wch Art shares wth Nre.
By Perdita, in Winter's Tale (TLN1890-1893), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- noth she does, or saies, But smack of someth
greater yn herself.
By Polixenes, in Winter's Tale (TLN1976-1977), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
/ ye Qu. of Curds & Cream.
By Camillo, in Winter's Tale (TLN1981), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- sings all day, qu. he had Eaten Ballads.
By Servant, in Winter's Tale (TLN2010-2011), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
-- white as Doves down or th’Ethiopian Tooth, or ye
fand snow, yt ’s bolted by ye Northern blast twice ore
By Florizel, in Winter's Tale (TLN2186-2188), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
--The fairest, yt ever made Eye swerve-
By Florizel, in Winter's Tale (TLN2199-2200), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 79
 
- an old sheep- whistl Rogue a Ramtender —
By Autolycus, in Winter's Tale (TLN2658-2659), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
y Mother was most true to Wedlock, Sr; conceiving
you printed y Father of.
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN2879-2880), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Welcom to me as is ye spring to th’Earth.
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN2909-2908), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
His Honesty till now endur’d all Weathers—
By Florizel, in Winter's Tale (TLN2959-2960), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
They seem’d almost starḡ on one another to tear the
Cases of yr Eyes. There was speech in yr Dumbness,
Language in yr very Gestures —
By First Gentleman, in Winter's Tale (TLN3022-3024), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
There might you see one Joy so crown another, yt
it seem’d sorrow wept to take leave of ȳ, for yr
Joy waded in Tears.
By Third Gentleman, in Winter's Tale (TLN3054-3056), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
I nev heard such an encount
wch lames Report to follow it, & undoes Description
to do it.
By Third Gentleman, in Winter's Tale (TLN3065-3067), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
-- yt old man stands by like a weather- beaten
conduit of many Kings Reigns
By Third Gentleman, in Winter's Tale (TLN3064-3065), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
mourn 20 years?
By Camillo, in Winter's Tale (TLN3243), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Scarce any Joy did live so long; no
sorrow, but kild itself much sooner.
By Camillo, in Winter's Tale (TLN3244-3246), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
A statuary.|
Could he but breath into his Work, He’d
beguil Nre of her Work Custom; so pfectly he in her
Ape. He hath done N. yt they say one wld
speak to her & stand in hope of Answer.
By Third Gentleman, in Winter's Tale (TLN3105-3110), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
The Life
’s as lively mockt as ev stil sleep mockt Death.
By Paulina, in Winter's Tale (TLN3207-3208), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Her ñllnatural<> posture!
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3212), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
thus she stood, even wth such
Life of maty.
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3225-3226), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Methinks it moves.
By Paulina, in Winter's Tale (TLN3257), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Would you not
deem it breath’d? & yt those veins Did ve= =rily bear blood?
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3261-3262), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
The very Life seems warm upon
her Lip.
By Polixenes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3264), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
The fixurefixture of her Eye has motion in’t, as
we are mockt wth Art.
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3265-3266), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Still methinks, there is an
air comes frō her. Wt fine Chizzel could ever
yet cut Breath! Let no man mock me longer;
I will kiss her-
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3278-3281), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
If this be magic, let it be an
Art Lawfull as Eating.
By Leontes, in Winter's Tale (TLN3319-3320), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
The best Wishes yt can be forg’d in yor own thoughts,
Be servts to you.
By Bertram, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN79-80), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
His Hon, Clock to its knew ye true Minute, when
’twas fit to speak, & at ye time his tongu Obey’d his Head
By King, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN284-287), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Deny it not, tell true: for look, thy Cheeks con: =fess it one to th’other, & thy Eyes—
By Countess, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN503-504), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
- Will follow, tho ye Devil Lead ye measure —
By Parolles, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN655-656), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
Ere 20 times ye Glass hath told us how ye thievish Minutes pass-
By Helena, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN775-776), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 80
 
– as fit as a Pancake for Shrove tuesday a Morris for May-day, ye pudding to his skin, & ye Nun’s-lip to ye Friers mouth—
By Clown, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN845-850), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
-- I’d rather ha’t then throw a Deux-Ace for my Life
By Lord Lafeu, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN975), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
 
-- Laies down his wanton siege before her; resolves to carry her
By Parolles, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN1876-1877), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Disgraces tale knockt often at my Door
By Parolles, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN1940-1941), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
For a Quart d’Escu hee’ll sell ye Feesimple of his salva= =tion, & cut ye Entail frō all Remainders
By Parolles, in All's Well that Ends Well (TLN2380-2381), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
-- but her decaying Fair A Sunny look of his would
soon repair.
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN374-375), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
but his Eye doth homage otherwhere:
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN380), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
like an unruly Deer he breaks ye pole & feeds frō home.
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN376-377), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
--you may as well Let fall a drop of Water in ye sea, And thence unmingled take ye drop again, As__
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN520-522), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
-- I’d spit at her, & throw ye N. of Husbd in her face, & tear ye stain’d skin from her harlot-Brow & from her fals hand cut ye wedd-ring, And break it —
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN529-533), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
In Ephesus I am but 2 hours old—
By Antipholus of Syracuse, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN543), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Thou are yen husbd–Elm & I ye Vine;
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN568-), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
If ought besides
Possess thee; ’tis usurp Ivie, Briar or idle Moss.
By Adriana, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN571-572), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Oh for my Beads! I cross me for a sinn! This is ye faëry
Land: We talk wth Elves, & Goblins.
By Dromio of Syracuse, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN-583-585), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Fie, now you run this Hum out of Breath-
By Antipholus of Ephesus, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN1043), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
A Kitchin -wench so greasy, I know not wt use to put
her to but to make a Lamp of her & run frō her by her
own light. I warrant, her rags, & ye tallow in ym will
burn a poland-winter.
By Dromio of Syracuse, in The Comedy of Errors (TLN886-890), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
His legs 2 ridg rods, his arms 2 Eelskins stuffe, his face so thin
By Bastard, in King John (TLN149-150), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
--upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, As seal to ye
Indenture of my Love.
By Austria, in King John (TLN312-313), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
You are ye Hare, of whō ye pverb goes, who’s valor
plucks dead Lions by ye beard.
By Bastard, in King John (TLN437-438), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Here’s a large Mouth indeed, yt spits forth wounds, & Death. – talks as familiarly of roarg Lions As childr.
do of puppie -dogs. Wt canonier begot this lusty
blood? He nothg speaks but fire, & smoke he gives ye Bastinado wth his tongue. Others are cudgeld.
--not a word of his, but buffets in: - I was nev so
bethumpt wth words.
By Bastard, in King John (TLN773-779), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Thou maist
hold a serpt by ye tongue, a lion by ye paw, a fasting Tiger by ye Tooth, than--
By Pandulpho, in King John (TLN1189-1192), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 81
 
Consc. buckled his Armor & Zeal & Charity brought him to ye field, as Gods own soldier – But yt sly devil yt bawd yt broker, purpose-changer, that smoothfaced Gentleman,, ye Bias of ye world, clapt on him hath drawn him frō his purpose.
By Bastard, in King John (TLN885-905), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
Time, ye old sexton ye bald clocksetter
By Bastard, in King John (TLN1257), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
My Son, my Life, my Joy, My All-the-World—
By Constance, in King John (TLN1488-1489), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
My Life’s as tedious as a twice-told Tale
By Lewis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1493), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
Death, Death ô amiable, lovely Death, the hate &
terror to prospity, But miseries Love; Rise from the Caves of Night, And I will kiss thy bones, I’ll put
my Eybals in thy vaulty Brows, & ring my fingers
wth thy household worms – Come grin on me, & I
will think thou smil’st & buss thee as thy Wife—
By Constance, in King John (TLN1408-1418), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
This were to gild gold, or to paint ye Lilly, to pfume ye violet, or to light a tap to ye Sun.
By Salisbury, in King John (TLN1728-1731), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
--high- stomacht, full of ire, In Rage deaf as ye
Sea, hasty as Fire
By Richard II, in Richard II (TLN22-23), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
Who is abroad out Lang. his tongue is of no more use to him yn an unstrung Harp or Viol
By Thomas Mowbray, in Richard II (TLN453-455), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
-Even thro ye hollow Eyes of Death I spie life peering
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN920-921), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
A Victory is twice its. wn tis not bloody.
By Leonato, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN12-13), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
I promise to eat All, yt he kills in ye Battel.
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN44), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
There is a kind of merry war between them & ȳ meet
not out a skirmish of Wit.
By Leonato, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN58-60), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
-- hee’ll never run mad till a hot January—
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN88-89), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
I’d rather bear my Dog bark at a Crow yn a man
swear he loves me.
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN127-129), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
A rare parrot-teacher;
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN135), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
I would my Horse had ye speed of yeher tongue
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN138), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
I can see out spectacles, & yet I can see no
such matter.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN184-185), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
– exceeds her as much in Beautie
as ye first of May doth ye Last of December.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN186-187), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
I can be as Secret as a dumb Man
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN203-204), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
’Tis an Opinion, yt fire can not molt out of me;
I’ll die in it at ye stake.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN224-226), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
He looks so tartly, yt I can nev see him, but I am heartburned an hour after
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN419-420), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
--Such a man would win any Woman in ye World,
--if he could get her good will.
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN430-431), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
R.
You have a merry heart.
By Don Pedro, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN711-713), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
--as coy, & wild as Haggards of ye Rock.
By Hero, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1123-1124), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
--All mirth, frō ye crown of ye Head to ye sole of ye foot: hath a heart as sound as a Bell; & his tongue ye clapp.
By Don Pedro, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1217-1221), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 82
 
No man so pfect but shee’ll s’pell him backward. If
fair, she swears the Gent. shd be her sister. If black;-
Nre in drawing an Antick made a foul blott; If
tall, a Lance illheaded; If low, an Agat very vildly
cut; If talkative a Vane blown wth all winds, If si= lent, why a Block moved wth none: So turns she evy
M. ye wrong side out.
By Hero, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1149-1158), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
If I speak, shee’ll mock me into
air, Laugh me out of mys. press me to death wth witt —
By Hero, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1164-1166), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
-- I doubt not, but success will fashion the Event in bett
shape than I can Lay it down.
By Friar Francis, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1898-1900), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
Manhood is gon; they are turn’d into tongu: hee’s (now)
valiant as Hercules yt tells a lie, & yn swears to it.
By Beatrice, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN1980-1983), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
-- he dares as well do’t as I dare take a serpent by
ye Tooth.
By Antonio, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2175-2176), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
Done to Death by slanderous tongues.
By Claudio, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2524), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
I know him, & wt he weighs, even to ye utmost scruple
By Antonio, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2179-2180), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
A fine wit. R. yes a fine little one. A great Wit. R. yes a gross one. A good wit. R. Just, for it hurts nobody.
By Don Pedro, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2248-2251), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
R.
Is he in earnest?
By Don Pedro, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2279-2280), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
-- runs smoothly in ye even Rode of blank verse.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2453-2454), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
--a lame halting SoñetSonnet of his own composing
By Claudio, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN2646), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
O she misus’d me past ye endurance of a block;
By , in not in source (TLN642), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
hudl ḡ
jest upon jest, yt I stood like a man at a mark wth
a whole army shoot at me. She speaks poniards, and
evy Word stabs me.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN647-650), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
She should have made Hercules
turn ye spit yea & cleft his club to make ye Fire.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN654-656), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
She is ye infernal Ate in good cloths.
By Benedick, in Much Ado About Nothing (TLN657), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
Hawks, yt will soar above ye morn lark. Hounds yt will
make ye Welkin answer ȳ and fetch shrill Ecchos frō
ye hollow Earth.
By Lord, in Taming of the Shrew (TLN195-198), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
Greyhouds as swift As breathed stags,
& fleeter yn ye Roe.
By First Servant, in Taming of the Shrew (TLN199-200), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
Come then, & let the World slip; we shall n’ere be younger.
By Christopher Sly, in Taming of the Shrew (TLN297), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
There’s small choice in rotten apples.
By Hortensio, in Taming of the Shrew (TLN437-438), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
--& wheresoere we went, like Juno’s swans, still we went
coupled, & inseperable.
By Celia, in As You Like It (TLN536-537), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
--Thou prun’st a rotten Tree, yt cannot so much as a Blos= =som yield In lieu of all thy pains, & husbandry.
By Orlando, in As You Like It (TLN467-469), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 83
 
--as tru a lov as ev sigh’d upoō a midnight-pillow
By Silvius, in As You Like It (TLN808-809), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
I care ō for his Name; he owes me noth.
By Jaques, in As You Like It (TLN910), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
His Brain as dry as remain bisket aft a voiage.
By Jaques, in As You Like It (TLN1011-1013), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
The Why is plain as Way to parish-church
By Jaques, in As You Like It (TLN1025), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
This is ye very fals gallop of Verses.
By Touchstone, in As You Like It (TLN1311), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
I’ll rime you so
8 years together dinners & suppers & sleeping hours excepted.
By Touchstone, in As You Like It (TLN1295-1296), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Nev was Irish Rat so berim’d
By Rosalind, in As You Like It (TLN1373-13734), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
He stammers & powrs his Words out of his mouth,
as wine comes out of a narrow-mouthd bottle; ei= =ther too much, or none at all.
By , in not in source (TLN1394-1397), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Falser yn vows made in Wine.
By Rosalind, in As You Like It (TLN1875-1878), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
I’ll think it a m. plenteous crop to glean, ye broken
Ears aft the man, yt ye main Harvest reaps. loose now,
& yn a scatterd Smile, & yt I’ll live upon
By Silvius, in As You Like It (TLN1845), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
(ϖαραϖροσδοχιαν
Tho there was no great matter in ye Ditty, yet the
note was very untuneable.
By Touchstone, in As You Like It (TLN1167-1168), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
- as sure tog. as Winter to foul weather
By Touchstone, in As You Like It (TLN2709-2710), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Sure there’s another Flood & these (4) couples are
com to ye Ark.
By Jaques, in As You Like It (TLN2614), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Rather this: or ratherest that
By Holofernes, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN1165-1168), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
To see great Hercules whippḡ
a Gig, And pfound Solomon turning a Jig And Nestor
play at push-pin wth ye Boies, And critiq Timon
Laugh at idle toies
By Biron, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN1504-1507), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Sharp, & sententious, pleseant out scurrility. Witty
out AffectoñAffection. bold out impudence.
By Sir Nathaniel, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN1742-1744), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
- a tongue as keen, as is ye Razors Edge, cut a smaller
Hair yn may be seen.
By Boyet, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN2172-2174), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
This fellow picks up Wit, as pigeons pease, & utters it
again.
He is Wits- pedlar & retails his Wares =
By Biron, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN2240-2242), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
-- yt vizzard’s a superfluous Case, That hides ye
worse, & shews ye better face.
By Rosaline, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN2316-2317), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
--no more blood of a man in him, than will sup a flea
By Biron, in Love's Labour's Lost (TLN2647-2648), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
y or Argosies wth portly sail like seignis, or rich
Burgers on ye flood, or like ye stately pageants of ye Sea
Do over looke ye petty traffiquers, Wch curtsie to them, & do
revence, while they fly by ȳ wth yr woven Wings
By Salarino, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN12-17), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
--from her Eys I did receive fair speechless messages
By Bassanio, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN172-173), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 84
 
Why shd a man, who’s blood is warm in, sit like his
Grandsire, cut in Alablaster? Sleeps, while he wakes? &
creep into ye Jaundices, by being peevish?
By Gratiano, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN92-95), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
This X. speaks an inf. deal of Noth. His Discourses are
2 grains of Wheat, hid in 2 bushels of Chaff: you shall
seek all day, ere you find ȳ, & when you have ȳ, they-
are not worth ye search.
By Bassanio, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN123-127), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
He doth noth but frown.
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN239), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
hears merry tales & smiles
not. I fear hee’ll prove ye weep pher wn he grows old,
being so full of unmannly sadn. in his Youth. I’d rather
be married to a Deathshead wth a Bone in his mouth.
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN240-244), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
A FrenchMan)
He’s evy Man in no Man. If but a bird sings,
he falls a capr&gtilde;capering, will fence with his own shadow.
Shd I take him, I shd marry 20 Husbds.
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN251-254), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
The German.
I like him in ye (sober) very vile =ly; most vildly in ye afternoon (drunk.)
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN276-277), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
any th rather yn be married to a Spunge.
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN288-289), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
I’ll run as farr, as G. ---
By Launcelot Gobbo, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN671), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
As lying a Gossip as ev made her Neighbs believe she
wept for ye death of a 3d Husbd.
By , in not in source (TLN1226-1228), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
The good N. ye honest N. – O yt I had a title good enough,
to keep his name company.
By , in not in source (TLN1230-1231), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Pale Despair, & Shuddring Fear, & green- ey’d Jealousye
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN1455-1456), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Before a Friend, of ye Description shall lose a hair for me, I’ll
By Portia, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN1659-1660), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
--for a tricksie word he defies the Matter
By Lorenzo, in The Merchant of Venice (TLN1877-1878), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Time lingers my desires, like a Stepdame, or Dowager,
Long wither out a young Mans Revenue
By Theseus, in A Midsummer Night's Dream (TLN7-9), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Awake ye pert, & nimble spirit of Mirth,
By Theseus, in A Midsummer Night's Dream (TLN17), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
I go, swifter yn Arrow from ye Tartar’s Bow.
By Puck, in A Midsummer Night's Dream (TLN1123-1124), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Who ovwatch ye Night out sleep ye Morn.
By Theseus, in A Midsummer Night's Dream (TLN2147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
O Heavens! Why doth my blood thus muster to my Heart?
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN1022-1023), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
So play ye foolish throngs wth one, yt swoons, come all to
help him, & to stop ye Air, By wch he shd revive_
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN1027-1029), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Were I under ye Terms of Death, I’ld wear th’Impression of Keen Whips as Rubies And strip mys. to Death, as to
a Bed, I long’d for Being sick;
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN1108-1111), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
I do arrest y Words; Be wt you are, a Woman. If you
be more, you’re none.
By Angelo, in Measure for Measure (TLN1146-1147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Nay had I 20 Heads to tender down on 20 bloody Blocks,
I ’ld yeeld them up, before I’ld do’t —
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN1194-1195), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Were it but my Life,
I’ld throw it down as frankly as a pin
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN1321-1322), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
I’ve heard of her: good Words went wth her Name
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN1432-1233), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
Left her in her tears, & dried ō one of ȳ wth his comforts. Swal= lowd his vows whole,
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1446-1147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
& yn bestowed her on her own Lamentatiȳ.
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1449-1450), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
He marble to her tears; washt wth them, but relents not.
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1450-1451), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 85
 
a secret to be lockt wth in teeth, & lips
By Lucio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1622-1623), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
-- he will unpeople ye pvince with Continency
By Lucio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1660-1661), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
-- a Justice so severe, yt he is indeed Justice
By Escalus, in Measure for Measure (TLN1737-1739), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
He, who ye sword of Heav. doth bear, should be holy, as
severe.
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN1746-1647), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
A feather will turn ye Scale.
By Provost, in Measure for Measure (TLN1883-1884), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Her eyes, ye break of day, Lights yt mislead ye morn.
By Boy, in Measure for Measure (TLN1772-1773), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
--In brief; (to set ye needless by:) -- -- --
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN2459), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
His Act did not o’retake his bad Intent,
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN2843-2844), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
It perisht by ye Way.
By Isabella, in Measure for Measure (TLN2845), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
He hath a stubborn soul,
That apprehends no further yn this Life, & squares
his life accordḡ.
By Vincentio, in Measure for Measure (TLN2879-2881), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
He makes fritters of English
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2629), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
She bears ye purse too; is a Region in Guiana.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN359-360), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
They 2
are my Exchequs, my E. & W. Indies.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN361-362), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Wt tempest threw this Whale, wth so many Ψ.
of Oil in his Belly, a shoar here?
By Mistress Ford, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN608-609), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Why, here’s a fellow frights English out of its Wits.
By Page, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN677-678), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
You, & y or fellow, a Gemini of Baboons
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN778-779), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
’Tis plain, a Man may hear ye shower sing in ye Wind.
By Mistress Ford, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN1300-1301), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Their plot is laid; & they share Damnation together
By Mistress Ford, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN1301-1303), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
--Like a woman in mans apparrel, & he smells
Like Bucklersbury in simplḡ time.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1415-1417), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
O wt a sort of vile ill favord faults Look handsome
in 300 a y.
By Anne Page, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN1601-1602), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
But ’tis ye Riches of thy very self I aim at
By Fenton, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN1587-1588), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
& you may know by my size I
have a kind of alacrity in sinkḡ.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1690-1692), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
come then, to ye forge wth it, shape it; I would
not have thḡ s cool.
By Mistress Page, in Merry Wives of Windsor (TLN2106-2107), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Wn I pluckt Geese, plaid truant, and whipt the Top
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2425-2426), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
Grim- visag’d War hath smoothd his wrinckled front:
By Richard III, in Richard III (TLN11), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
O bruised Arms hung up for monumts
By Richard III, in Richard III (TLN8), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
It is a reeling World.
By Catesby, in Richard III (TLN1836), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
a totterḡ State.
By Hastings, in Richard III (TLN1835), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
--made him my Book wherein my Soul recorded
The History of her most secret Thoughts: so smooth he
daub’d his Vice wth Shew of Vertue
By Richard III, in Richard III (TLN2113-2115), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
ye Early Village-cock hath twice done Salutation
to ye Morn –
By Ratcliff, in Richard III (TLN3672-3673), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
a Moth of peace
By Desdemona, in Othello (TLN606), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
-- comanded my purse, qu. ye strings were his —
By Roderigo, in Othello (TLN5-6), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
(daught marry a Moor
-- ye Devil will make a Grandsire of you.
By Iago, in Othello (TLN99), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
--being full of supper, & distemp.
By Brabantio, in Othello (TLN109), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
make ye Beast wth 2 backs
By Iago, in Othello (TLN128-129), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
ye steel couch of War, easier yn thrice driven beds of Down
By Othello, in Othello (TLN578-579), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 86
 
--a heavy Interim must I bear in thy dear Absence -
By Desdemona, in Othello (TLN608-609), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
-- If my Disports corrupt, & taint my Business, May ~
Houswifes make a skillet of my Helm __
By Othello, in Othello (TLN621-622), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
Had I as many mouths as Hydra ys wld stop ȳ all
By Cassio, in Othello (TLN1426-1427), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
-- follows ye Chace, notlike a Hound, yt hunts, but
one, yt fills up ye Cry.
By Roderigo, in Othello (TLN1490-1491), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
- a Fool as gross, as Ignorance made drunk.
By Iago, in Othello (TLN2052-2053), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
- strong Circumstance, wch heads directly to ye Door of Truth
By Iago, in Othello (TLN2054-2055), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
O yt ye slave had 40000 lives! One is too poor, too weak
for my Revenge.
By Othello, in Othello (TLN2092-2093), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
I’ll Catechize ye World (1. Enqre) for him
By Clown, in Othello (TLN2152), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
-Fleers, Gibes, & Scorns, yt dwell in evy Regiō of his Face
By Iago, in Othello (TLN2464-2465), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
I durst lay down my soul at stake, that this is not so
By Emilia, in Othello (TLN2700-2701), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
--I heard each syllable, yt Breath made up between ȳ
By Emilia, in Othello (TLN2691-2692), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
As sumer Flies are in ye shambles, yt qcken
even wth blowing.
By Othello, in Othello (TLN2761-2762), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
– Pander)
he hath ye Office op= =posit to S. Pet & keepes ye gate of Hell
By Othello, in Othello (TLN2790-2791), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
Thou hadst my purse, as if ye strings were thine
By Roderigo, in Othello (TLN5-6), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
Ile take Do you bit y or Thumb at me, Sr?
By Abraham, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN45), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
He breathd Defiance, swong his sword about his Head,
& cut ye Winds, wch no thḡ hurt hist him in scorn.
By Benvolio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN113-115), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
--before ye sun peerd forth ye golden window of ye East—
By Benvolio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN120-121), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
--soon as ye ’ al cheerḡ sun shall in ye farthest east begin to
draw ye shady Curtains frō Aurora’s bed___
By Montague, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN136-138), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
--locks out ye Light & makes hims. an artificial Night.—
By Montague, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN141-142), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
You saw her fair, none else being by; Hers. pois’d wth
hers. in either Ey: But in yt Chrystal. Scale let there
be weigh’d some other Beauty —
By Benvolio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN343-345), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
-- streight am I proverb’d with a Grand-sire phrase-
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN490), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
O she doth teach ye Torches to burn bright: Her Beauty
hangs upon ye Cheek of Night, Like a rich Jewel
in an Ethiops Ear.
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN617-618), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
What, Goodman Boy! I say he shall: Go to.
By Capulet, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN653), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
As wn a winged messenger of Heav.
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN822), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
bestrides ye puffing
clouds, & sails upō the bosom of ye Air;
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN825-826), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
Mortals wth white, upturned, Eyes fall back to gaze on him
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN823-824), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
--Thy Love reads but by rote: it cannot spell
By Friar Laurence, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN1097), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
stabd to ye Heart with a white wenches black Eye: run
thro ye Ear wth a lovesong; ye very pin of his Heart
cleft wth ye blind boyes shaft-
By Mercutio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN1119-1121), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
Laura to his Lady a Kitchin -wench, Dido a Dowdy, Cleopa= tra a Gipsie, Helen, & Hero hildings, & Harlotts; this be a
gray Eye, or so~
By Mercutio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN1144-1147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 87
 
 
she may bestride ye Gossamer, yt idles in ye
wanton Summer-air
By Friar Laurence, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN1411-1412), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
He quareld wth one for coughing in ye street & wa= =king his dog, yt lay asleep in ye sun: fell out wth
another for wearḡ his new doublet before Easter,
& tying his new shoes wth old ribband.
By Mercutio, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN1455-1458), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
This Hand, yt seald to thee, shall ne’r be Label
to another Deed.
By Juliet, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2351-2352), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
It is ye Lark, ye Herald of ye Morn.
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2038), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Bright streaks
do Lace ye severing Clouds i’ th’ East. Nigths Can= dles are burnt out, & iocond Day stands tiptoes
on ye misty mornings tops
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2039-2042), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
I must bear frō thee Evy Day i’th’houre: For in
a Minute there are many Daies.
By Juliet, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2077-2078), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
The pulse keeps not its native pgress. no warmth, no
breath doth testify she lives. The Roses in her Lips,
& cheeks do fade into pale Ashes. ye Eys windows
fall, like Death, wn he shuts up ye Day of Life.
By Friar Laurence, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2391-2396), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
--in tatterd weeds, With meager looks, wth ovwhelm
Brows:
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2766), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Sharp Misery had worn him to ye Bones
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2768), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Fa= min sits in his cheeks; Need, & opprssiōoppression starveth in
his Eyes; Contempt, & Beggery hang on his Back.
By Romeo, in Romeo and Juliet (TLN2798-2799), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
A thḡ too bad for bad Report—
By First Gentleman, in Cymbeline (TLN23-24), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
-- put him to all ye Learnḡs his time was capable of;
wch he took, as we take Air, fast as ’tis ministered.
And in his spring became a Harvest- liv’d in Court
A Sample to ye young, to th’most mature a Glass,
to ye Graver a Child yt guids Dotards—
By First Gentleman, in Cymbeline (TLN52-59), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
(pting
There can ō be a pinch in Death more sharp yn this
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN156-157), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
He is a Man worth any Woman. overbuies most —
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN177-178), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
-- took a Catalogue of his Endowmts, & I pus’d him by Items
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN320-322), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
My Ring I hold as dear as my finger: ’tis part of it.
By , in not in source (TLN448-449), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
His Fortunes all lie speechles & his Name is at last gasp—
By Queen, in Cymbeline (TLN552-553), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
-- Laught frō ’s’s free Lungs, his Eyes in flood wth Laughter
Can my sides hold (he cries) to think, yt ---
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN671-672), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
You recoil from y or great Stock:
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN742-743), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Be reveng’d;
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN745), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
or she
yt bare you, was no Queen.
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN742), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Such a holy Witch, That he inchants societies into him;
Half all mens Hearts are his_
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN784-786), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Some dozen of us (he ye best Feather in or Wing)
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN806-807), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
He can’t take 2 frō 20 for his Heart and
Leave eighteen—
By Second Lord, in Cymbeline (TLN890-892), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Oh Sleep, thou Ape of Death, lie heavy on her!
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN938), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
th’inclos’d
Lights canopied under Lids, white, azure- lac’d, with
Blew of Heaven’s own tinct.
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN928-930), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 88
 
Swift! Swift! you Dragons of the Night;
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN955), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
R.
The South Fog rot him
By Cloten, in Cymbeline (TLN1109), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Never saw I Figures, so likely to report ȳSs The Cutter
another Nr&235;Nature, nay outwent her, motiō, & Breath left out.
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN1246-1249), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
’Tis a Basilisk to my Ey: kills me to look on’t—
By , in not in source (TLN1279-1280), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
--& all the Fiends of Hell divide themselves between you-
By , in not in source (TLN1303-1304), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
He, thou callst Father, was I know not where, Wn thou
wert stampt, some Coiner wth his Tools made thee
a Counterfeit.
By , in not in source (TLN1343), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
His voice hath got ye mannish Crack.
By Arviragus, in Cymbeline (TLN2548-2549), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
O crows shall fare ye better for you,
& there’s an end.
By Cloten, in Cymbeline (TLN1462), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
// The Eldest son of Fortune—
By Norfolk, in Richard III (TLN1052), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Damn'd paper! black as ye Ink, yt s on thee.
By Pisanio, in Cymbeline (TLN1487-1488), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
(openḡ a lett)
Good wax thy leave!
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN1504), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
I need notto draw my sword: the Letter
hath cut her throat already.
By Pisanio, in Cymbeline (TLN1703-1704), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Flow, flow, you heavenly Blessḡs, on him.
By Pisanio, in Cymbeline (TLN2077-2078), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
The Night to th’ Owl, ye Morn to th’ Lark less welcom.
By Arviragus, in Cymbeline (TLN2192), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
’Tis not vainglory, for a Man, & his Glass to conferr
tog. in his own chamber.
By Cloten, in Cymbeline (TLN2225-2226), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Come away; ’tis great morning.
By Belarius, in Cymbeline (TLN2324), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Why Yield?
By Cloten, in Cymbeline (TLN2348), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Have not I an arm as big as thine? a Heart
as big? Thy Words, I grant, are bigger: for I wear not
my Dagger in mouth.
By Guiderius, in Cymbeline (TLN2344-2347), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Thy Tailor is thy Grandfather: He made those Cloths,
wch (as it seems) make thee.
By Guiderius, in Cymbeline (TLN2351-2353), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Not Hercules could have knockt out his Brains; for he ^ had none.
By Guiderius, in Cymbeline (TLN2397-2398), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Upon a time; (unhappy was ye Clock yt struck ye Hour)
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN3432-3433), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
I’d stake it, were it a Carbuncle from phoebus Wheel.
By Iachimo, in Cymbeline (TLN3469-3471), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
If this be so; Heaven means to strike me Dead
with mortal Joy.
By , in not in source (TLN3520-3521), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
--broke her Eystrings, crackt them wth lookḡ after him.
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN285-286), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
Morn, Noon, & Night encounter me wth Oriçons; for
then I am in Heaven for thee.
By Imogen, in Cymbeline (TLN300-302), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
sit still, & see away your shilling.
By Prologue, in Henry VIII (TLN12-13), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
How they clung in yr embracement as they grew together.
By Norfolk, in Richard III (TLN50-51), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
I read in’s looks Matt a&gtilde;stagainst me. his Ey revild ^ me as he past.
By Buckingham, in Richard III (TLN195-197), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
--to as much End as ^to give a Crutch to th’ Dead
By Buckingham, in Richard III (TLN247-248), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
I front but in yt File, where others tell steps wth me
By Cardinal Wolsey, in Richard III (TLN372-373), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
-- takes Root, where he sits. sits a State- statue only
By Cardinal Wolsey, in Richard III (TLN422-423), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 89
 
– yr clothes are aft such a pagan cut, yt sure they ’ve’ll
worn out Xndom —
By Chamberlain, in Henry VIII (TLN587-588), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
None there broughts wth him One care abroad: but they were all as merry As (first) good Company, good Wine,
Good Welcom can make good people.
By Guildford, in Henry VIII (TLN669-673), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
These 20 years I’ve been in Court nor could come pat
between Too-early, & Too-late For any Suit—
By Old Lady, in Henry VIII (TLN1301-1304), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
Good Sr, Make yours. Mirth wth y or pticular Fancy
& leave me out on’t—
By Anne, in Henry VIII (TLN1322-1324), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
All his Tricks founder.
By Chamberlain, in Henry VIII (TLN1876), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
Her Male Issue or died, where they were made, or
shortly after This World had air’d ȳ
By King Henry VIII, in Henry VIII (TLN1557-1559), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
He brings his physic, after his patients death.
By Chamberlain, in Henry VIII (TLN1876-1877), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
--Some thḡ frets ye string, ye master Cord of ’s Heart;
By Surrey, in Henry VIII (TLN1964-1965), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
there is a Mutiny in his Mind
By King Henry VIII, in Henry VIII (TLN1982), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
He pted frō me frowning as if Ruin leap’d from his
Eyes. so looks ye chafed Lion upō ye darḡ Hunstm. yt
hath galld him; Then makes him No thḡ .—
By King Henry VIII, in Henry VIII (TLN2086-2087), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
How eagerly you follow my Disgrace, qu. it fed you —
By Cardinal Wolsey, in Richard III (TLN2124-2125), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
-- All his Enemies heads weigh’d not a hair of his--
By Surrey, in Henry VIII (TLN2144-2145), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
--he falls, like Lucifer, nev to hope again—
By Cardinal Wolsey, in Richard III (TLN2271-2272), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
(Ann Boleyn
The K. has all the Indies in his Arms
By Second Gentleman, in Henry VIII (TLN2458), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
-- A Croud, where a Finger could ō be wedg’d in more.
By Third Gentleman, in Henry VIII (TLN2474-2475), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
It comes too late; like pardon after Execution.
By Katharine, in Henry VIII (TLN2708-2709), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
R.
How got this Croud in?
By Porter, in Henry VIII (TLN3274-3275), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
There’s one, he should be a Brasier by his
Face; for 20 of ye Dog- daies reign now in’s Nose
All yt stand about him, are under ye Line. yt Meteor,
yt Firedrake, stands there like a Mortar-piece
By Man, in Henry VIII (TLN3298-3305), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
Love, & her soft Hours
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN56), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
A picture|
How this Grace speakes his own standing!
Wt a mental power This Ey shoots forth! How big
Imaginoñ Moves in ye hip! To ye Dumbness of the
gesture One might interpret.
By Poet, in Timon of Athens (TLN44-52), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
Aches contract yor supple Joints. That there should be
so little Love amongst these Knaves, & all yr Curtesie!
The strain of Man’s bred out into Baboon, & Monkey
By Apemantus, in Timon of Athens (TLN296-299), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
-- Carries ye noblest mind, yt ev govn'd man.
By First Lord, in Timon of Athens (TLN333-334), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 90
 
Put on a m. importunate Aspect, A visage of Demand.
By Senator, in Timon of Athens (TLN645-646), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
R.
What Hour is't
By Lucius, in Timon of Athens (TLN1130-1131), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
 
most smiling, & smooth parasites,
Curteous Destroiers, affable Wolves, meek Bears,
You fools of Fortune, Trencher-friends, Time -flies,
Cap- & knee-slaves –
By Timon, in Timon of Athens (TLN1474-1477), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Love, & it's soft Hours
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN56), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Thou cold Sciatica, cripple or Senators yt yr livs
may halt, as lamely as yr manners—
By Timon, in Timon of Athens (TLN1526-1528), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
A counterfeit Matron: it is her Habit only, that is
honest; Herself’s a Baud
By Timon, in Timon of Athens (TLN1726-1728), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
-- Paints, till a Horse may mire upon her face—
By Timon, in Timon of Athens (TLN1763), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
--he plung’d himself in genal Riot, melted down his
youth in difft beds of Lust, & follow’d still the
sugred Game before him.
By Timon, in Timon of Athens (TLN1882-1886), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Slave, Beast, Toad, Issue of a mangie dog; How do I swoon to see thee!
By Apemantus, in Timon of Athens (2005-2013), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Thou are too bad to curse
By Apemantus, in Timon of Athens (TLN1993-1996), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
As wn ye golden sun salutes ye Morn, & havḡ gilt ye Ocean
wth his beams Gallops ye Zodiac in his glisterḡ coach
By Aaron, in Titus Andronicus (TLN559-561), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
His great Heart in ye Heat of Fight hath burst
the Buckles on his Breast
By Philo, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN11-12), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
(to a Soothsayer.
Is’t you, Sr, yt know things?
By Charmian, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN87), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
(1. paint old
You shall be far fairer yn you are
By Soothsayer, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN96), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
most sweet, most dear, most-any- thḡ Alexas
By Charmian, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN80), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
- would marry 3 KK. in a forenoon, & widow ȳ all___
By Charmian, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN105-107), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
unkindness is mortal to her: If you speak of De= parture, Death is ye Word.
By Domitius Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN233-234), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
– Catchḡ but ye least
noise of it, she dies instantly. I have seen her die 20
times upō far poorer momt.
By Domitius Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN239-241), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
–Her Winds, & Waters
her sighs, & tears, are greater Storms, & Tempests, yn
Almanacks can report.
By Domitius Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN246-248), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
All ye Gods go wth you. upō your Sword sit Laureld Victory,
& smooth success be strew’d before y or feet
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN420-422), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Cleopatra ye serpent of old Nile, so Antonio cald her A Negro, black wth Phebus amorous pinches A morsel for a monarch, his Eyes grew anchor'd in her brow So died with looking on his lif
By Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN551-561), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
He shines on those, yt make their Looks by his
By Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN586-587), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Worthy Mecenas, half ye Heart of Cesar
By Domitius Enobarbus, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN883), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
Thy lustre thickens, when he shines by.
By , in not in source (TLN993-994), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 91
 
I'll showr Gold, & hail rich pearls upon thee.
By Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN1079-1080), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
 
Thou shalt be whipt wth wire, & stewd in Brine,
smarting in lingring pickle.
By Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN1108-1110), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--till ye conqu Wine had steept yr Senses in
soft, & delicate Lethe--
By Cleopatra, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN1457-1458), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--She here. what's her Name, since she was Cleopatra.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2272-2273), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
I
found her as a morsel cold upō dead Cesar's tren= =cher; nay a fragment of Pompey's: besides wt hotter
hours unregistered in vulgar Fame she hath lux= uriously pickt out.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2293-2297), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
-- now lets a mean fellow
be familiar wth my play fellow her hand.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2301-2303), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Scant ō your cups.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2438), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Lets drown consideration,
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2465), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
And
burn this Night wth Torches
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2460-2462), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
They flie.
Let's score yr backs, And snatch them up, as we
take hares, behind. 'Tis sport to maul a Runner
By Scarus, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2640-2642), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Triple- turnd whore,
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2769), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
fals soul of Egypt.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2781), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Spot of all thy sex.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2793-2794), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
like a right
Gypsie, plaist al fast, & loose
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2784-2785), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
I'll be a Bridegroom in my Death, & run into't, As
to a Lover's bed.
By Antony, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN2941-2943), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Tidings to wash ye Eys of Kings.
By Octavious Caesar, in Antony and Cleopatra (TLN3141-3142), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
yr sore task Do's not divide ye Sunday frō ye Week;
By Marcellus, in Hamlet (TLN91-92), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Nay, makes ye Night joint-labourer wth ye day
By Marcellus, in Hamlet (TLN94), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
But look, ye morn in Russet mantle clad Walks
ore ye Dew of yon high Eastern Hill.
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN165-166), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
With one auspicious, and one droppḡ Eye, wth mirth in
Funerall & Dirge in Marriage, In equall scale we
weigh Delight, & Dole_
By King Claudius, in Hamlet (TLN189-191), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
-- followd his Hearse like Niobe all-tears
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN332-333), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--no more like him yn I to Hercules, ^or Phoebus to a Satyre
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN336-337), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
In ye dead Wast & middle of ye Night--
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN389), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--these Hands are not more like
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN403), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
While one wth moderate hast might kill a hunderd
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN436), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--I'll speak, tho Hell its. shld gape, & bid me hold
my peace.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN445-446), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Methinks, I sent ye morning-Air.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN743), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Crack not ye wind of ye poor phrase, HuntḠ it thus
By Polonius, in Hamlet (TLN574-575), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
'Tis a nipping eager Air;
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN605), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
it bides shrewdly.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN604), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
I do not set my Life at a pin's Rate.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN654), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--Each petty Artery in his body As hardy as ye Nemean
Lions Nerve --
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN669-670), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
The Time is out of joint.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN885), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--as swift as meditoñ, or ye thought of Love.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN715-716), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
Dull as fat Weeds, yt rot on Lethe's Wharf.
By Ghost, in Hamlet (TLN719-720), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 92
 
--Remember Thee?
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN780), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Yes; frō the Table of my Memory
I'll wipe away all trivial fond Records, All saws of
Books --
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN783-785), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
That youth & Observoñn/abbr>observation copied there, & thou
alone shalt live Wth in ye book, & volum of my Brain,
unmixt wth baser matter. --
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN786-789), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
--And still y or fingers on y or Lips, I pray.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN884), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
--he fell to such pusall of her Face, as he wld draw it.
By Ophelia, in Hamlet (TLN987-988), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
--he raised a sight so hideous, & pfound, yt it did
seem to shatter all his Bulk--
By Ophelia, in Hamlet (TLN991-992), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
(Head from body)
Take this from this
By Polonius, in Hamlet (TLN1187), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
I'm not ambitious I could be bounded in a Nut= =shell, & count mys. a Kḡ of infinite space.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1300-1301), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Better, yt I am! I am even poor in thanks.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1320), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
I know a Hawk from a Handsaw.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1425-1426), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
A great old Baby, not yet out of his swath -clouts
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1430-1431), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Thy face is valiant, since I saw thee last.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1469-1470), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Dost beard me?
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1577), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
-- a good play: But it pleas'd not ye million.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1481), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
But as we often see against some storm, There's silence
in ye Heav ye Rack stands still, The bold Wind's speech= =less & ye orb below As hush as Death: Anon ye dreadf.
Thunder Doth rends ye Air; so after some short pawse
Doth vengeance rowze its.
By First Player, in Hamlet (TLN1523-1528), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
--cald him Coward, & Villain; broke his pate a-cross; pluckt off his Beard, & blew it in his Face; tweakt him by th'nose; gave him ye Lye i'th’ throat As Deep, as to ye Lungs;
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1611-1615), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Fatt all ye Region-Kites wth this Slave's Offal.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1619-1620), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
He is ye Glass of Fashion in ye court
By Ophelia, in Hamlet (TLN1809), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
-- mine Eyes I'll rivet to his Face
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN1936), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
--A Forest of Feathers;
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
pvincial Roses on his shoes.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2149), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
R.
A word wth you, Sr.
By Guildenstern, in Hamlet (TLN2168-2169), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
'Tis now ye very witching time of Night, Wn churchyds
yawn & Hell its. breaths out Contagion to ye World.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2262-2263), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Now could I do such bitter Business, As Day
would quake to look on.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2259-2261), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
Save me, & hov ore me wth y or Wings, you heav'nly Guards
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2484-2485), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
This blurrs ye grace, & blush of modesty, Calls Vertue
Hypocrit, takes off the Rose From your faire forehead of
an iñocent Love, And plants a Blister there makes
Marriage-Vows As fals as Dicers Oaths.
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN2424-2428), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 93
 
ye paintḡ of a Sorrow: A Face wth out a Heart.
By King Claudius, in Hamlet (TLN3106-3107), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
R.
Calmly, good Sr
By Gertrude, in Hamlet (TLN2859-2864), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Put y or Bonett to its right use 'tis for ye Head
By Hamlet, in Hamlet (TLN3597-3598), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Now cracks a noble Heart; Goodnight, sweet prince,
And flights of Angels sing thee to thy Rest.
------
By Horatio, in Hamlet (TLN3849-3850), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
wt hast looks thro his Eyes? strange ths hee'll speak
By Lennox, in Macbeth (TLN69-70), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Kind Gentlemen, y or pains are registered, where
Evy day I turn ye Leaf to read ȳ.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN267-269), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
- he died, As one, yt had bin studied in his death.
By Malcolm, in Macbeth (TLN288-289), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
-a man on whō I build an abs. Trust: but there's no Art to find ye mind's ↄstruction in ye Face.
By Duncan, in Macbeth (TLN292-295), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
More is thy Due, than more yn All can pay.
By Duncan, in Macbeth (TLN304), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Then
art so far before, yt swiftest Recompence is slow
to ovtake thee -
By Duncan, in Macbeth (TLN299-301), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
(Consc.
My mind is full of Scorpions.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1194), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
F. Martin
The guest of summ, the temple-haunting Barlet
wth his lov'd Masonry makes here his pendent Bed
& procreant Cradle, & here both haunts, & breed.
By Banquo, in Macbeth (TLN437-444), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
About the Death, & Nrë now ↄtend Whether they
live, or dye |.
By Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN655-656), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
There's Daggers in yr Smiles.
By Donalbain, in Macbeth (TLN914), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
- he goes ye primrose-way to ye evlast Bonfire
By Porter, in Macbeth (TLN760-761), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
The Tears are not yet brewd.
By Donalbain, in Macbeth (TLN891), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
--under him my Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said,
Marc Anthonie's was by Cesar's.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN146-147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
He makes his face a vizzd to his Heart Disguising ( wt he is.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1191-1192), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Light thickens, & ye Crow makes wing to th'Wood
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1209-1210), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
The West yet glimmers wth some streaks of Light. Now
spurs ye latest travellor apace, To gain the timely Inn
By 1 Murderer, in Macbeth (TLN1224-1226), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
O prop stuff!
By Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1329), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
how well would this becom A woman's
story of a winter's fire; Authoriz'd by her Grandam
By Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1333-1335), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
-- A Man, a bold one too - dares look on yt wch
might appall ye Devil
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1327-1328), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
-- ye rugged Russian bear, ye arm'd Rhinoceros, ye Hircan ^ Tiger
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1377-1378), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
-- If I flinch protest me ye Baby of a Girl.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1382-1383), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
You keep ye naturall Rubies of y or cheeks, Wn mine
is blancht wth Fear_
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1393-1394), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
The Night's at ods wth Mornḡ, wch is wch
By Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN1409), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
This Tyrant who's sole Name blisters my Tongues
By Malcolm, in Macbeth (TLN1827), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Front to front Bring you this Fiend, wth in my sword's
length set him; And if he scape
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2083-2085), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 94
 
Thou creamfac'd Loon.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2225), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
thou Lilly-livered Boy,
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2232), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
where
gotst thou yt Goos -look?
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2227), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
those Linen cheeks of thine
are Counsellor to Fear.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2233-2234), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Our Castle's strength will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them
lie till Famine, & ye Ague eat ȳ up.
By Macbeth, in Macbeth (TLN2322-2324), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
A, yt makes Breath poor, & speech unable.
By Goneril, in King Lear (TLN65), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Dea= rer yn Ey -sight, Liberty, or Life.
By Goneril, in King Lear (TLN61-63), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
So be my Grave my peace, as I mak't good.
By King Lear, in King Lear (TLN133), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
R.
I banish thee.
By King Lear, in King Lear (TLN190-195), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Son, & heir of a mongril Bitch
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1096), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
-- thou cowardly
rascal, Nature disclaims thee, a tailor made thee--
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1128-1129), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Thou worson Zed, thou u&xE5DC;ecessaryunnecessary Letter.
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1137), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
I'll
tread thee into Mort, & daub a Jakes wth thee.
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1139-1140), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Such smiling Rogues as this, smooth evy Passion That in ye
Natures of yr Lds rebell; being oil to Fire, Snow
to the cooler moods. & turn their Halcyon - beaks with
every Gale, like Dogs, know noughts but following.
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1146-1153), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
-- naked outface ye Winds, & psecutions of ye skie.
By Edgar, in King Lear (TLN1262-1263), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
-- streight comes a reeking post, stewd in his hast.
By Kent, in King Lear (TLN1306-1307), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Touch me, wth noble anger, & let not
Women's weapons watdrops stain my man's cheeks--
By King Lear, in King Lear (TLN1576-1578), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
--not worth ye Dust, wch ye rude Wind blows in his Face_
By , in not in source (TLN2302-2303), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Swears as many oaths, as he speaks Words, & breaks ȳ
in the face of Heav.
By Edgar, in King Lear (TLN1873), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
-- sleepsslept in ye strivḡ of Lust, &
wakes to do it.
By Edgar, in King Lear (TLN1870-1871), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
outparamors ye Turk.
By Edgar, in King Lear (TLN1871-1872), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Hog in Sloth.
Fox in stealth, wolf in greedines: Dog in madness.
Lion in prey, & rapin.
By Edgar, in King Lear (TLN1874-1875), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Wn he refus'd ye Rabblement howled & clapt yr chopt
hands, threw up yr sweaty nightcaps, & utterd such a
deal of stinkḡ breath yt Cesar swoon'd
By , in not in source (TLN348-351), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
O he sits high in all the people's hearts:
And that which would appear offence in us,
His countenance, like richest alchemy,
Will change to virtue and to worthiness.
By Casca, in Julius Caesar (TLN605-608), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
-- yr hats pluckt down about yr Ears, & half their
Faces Buried in yr Cloaks
By Lucius, in Julius Caesar (TLN697-698), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
What watchf. cares do interpose themselves Betw. y or Eys & Night?
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN728-729), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
--yon gray lines, yt fret ye Clouds are Messengers of Day
By Cinna, in Julius Caesar (TLN734-735), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 95
 
Let ō pr Looks put on yor purposes.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN863), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Look free, & merry.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN862), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
it was but an Effect of Humor, wch sometimes
hath his Hour in evy man.
By Portia, in Julius Caesar (TLN891-892), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
The thḡ s yt threatened me, Ne'r lookt but on my back.
wn r ye Face of Cesar, they streight vanished
By , in not in source (TLN997-999), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
I'll not be thawd wth yt, wch meltetth Fools, sweet
Words, Low curt'sies, & base Spaniel-fawning.
By , in not in source (TLN1248-1250), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Fortune is merry; & in this Mood will give us any thḡ
By Antony, in Julius Caesar (TLN1807-1808), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Anth. of Lepidus
/ Tho we lay Hons on this Man to
Ease oss, He shall but bear ȳ, as ye Ass bears Gold, To
groan, & sweat unð ye Busines, Or led, or driven, as
we print ye Way. Wn he hath brought or Treasure
where we will, Then take we down his Load, & turn
him off, Like to the empty Ass, to shake his Ears &
graze in Coons. /
By Antony, in Julius Caesar (TLN1875-1880), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Shall I be frighted wn a Mad man stares?
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN2013), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Fret
till y or proud Hecat break.
By Cassius, in Julius Caesar (TLN2015), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
yor have an itching palm: y or sell, & mart y or
offices for gold To undeservers.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN1979-1981), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
There is no terror in y or threats; For I am armd
so strong in honesty, that they pass by me, as ye idle
Wind, wch I regard not.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN2043-2046), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
The drop of Night is cropt upō or talk; And
Nature must obey Necessity.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN2226-2227), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
His words rob Hybla's bees, & leave ȳ Honey-less
By Cassius, in Julius Caesar (TLN2366-2367), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
That noble Vessel is so full of Grief, That it runs
ov even at his Eyes.
By Clitus, in Julius Caesar (TLN2655-2656), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Constant, as th'North star, of who's quality
There is no fellow in ye Firmament. The skies are pain =ted wth unnumberd spks,
By Cassius, in Julius Caesar (TLN1268-1271), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
yet there's but one of
All, yt holds his place.
By Cassius, in Julius Caesar (TLN1273), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
He has done well; & I could be content to give him good
Report for it, but yt he paies himself with being proud.
By First Citizen, in Coriolanus (TLN33-35), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
-As sure, as a Coal of Fire on th'Ice, or Hailstones in
ye Sun: no trust to him who depends on them, swimming
with finns of Lead, & hews down Okes with rushes
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN184-192), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
--they threw up yr caps, as if they'd hang them on
ye horns ofo' ye Moon--
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN225-226), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Were I any thḡ, but wt I am, I'd wish me only He
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN251-252), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
I fear you less yn He; yt 's lesser yn a Little.
By First Senator, in Coriolanus (TLN502-503), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
A Carbuncle Entire, as big as He, were not so rich a Jewel.
By Lartius, in Coriolanus (TLN557-558), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
You souls of Geese, yt bear ye shapes of men; you yt do
run frō slaves, that Apes would beats.
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN529-531), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
All ye ↄtagiō of ye
south light on you,
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN525), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
& one infect anoth. agst ye wind a Mile
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN528-529), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 96
 
Bold Gent. may fair Fortune fall deep in love
wth thee;
By Lartius, in Coriolanus (TLN593-594), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
prosp be thy page--
By Lartius, in Coriolanus (TLN596), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
The shepherd knows not thunder from a tab more yn
I know ye sound of yt tongue from evy mean Man's
By Cominus, in Coriolanus (TLN634-636), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
Brave Romans, wch of you, but is four Volsci?
By Martius, in Coriolanus (TLN699-700), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
'Twere a Concealmt worse yn theft, to hide y or Doings
By Cominus, in Coriolanus (TLN772-774), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
-hasty, & tinder-like upon too trivial Motion
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN945-947), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
You tritons of ye Minnows.
By , in not in source (TLN1782), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
(Sc. Tribunes)
You are ye Heardsmen of ye beastly plebeians
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN989), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
Ambitious for poor knaves caps, & Legs.
You wear out a good holesom Forenoon in hearing
a Cause between an Orange-wife & a tripe -seller,
& yn rejourn ye Controvsy of 3d to a 2d Hearing!
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN964-968), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
All ye peace you make is callḡ both the parties Knaves,
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN974-975), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
& so dismiss ye cause bleedḡ more entangled by y or Hearḡ.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN972-973), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
Wn you speak best to ye purpose, 'tis ō worth the
wagging of y or Beards. & those Beards deserve
not so hoble a grave, as to stuff a Botcher's Cushion,
or to be entombd in an Asse's packsaddle
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN981-984), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
 
Whether do you follow y or Eys so fast
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN995-996), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
I'll make my very House reel to Night.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN1008), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
It gives me an Estate of 7 year's health; in wch
time I'll make a lip at ye physitian: ye most so= verain prscription in Galen is to the prservative
of no better Report, yn a Hors -drench.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN1111-1115), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
Death certain in his nervy Arm doth lie,
By Volumnia, in Coriolanus (TLN1057), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
Before him
he carries noise; Behind him he leaves tears.
By Volumnia, in Coriolanus (TLN1055-1056), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
A curse begin at th'very Root of 's heart, that
is not glad to see thee.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN1094-1095), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
The White, & Damask Warr in yr gawdy cheeks.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN1135-1136), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
In human Actiō, & Capacity of
no more soul, or fittness for ye World, than Camels
in ye War, who have provand, only for bearḡ
Burthens, & sore Blows for sinking under ȳ.
By Brutus, in Julius Caesar (TLN1176-1180), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
--as easy as to set Dogs on sheep.
By , in not in source (TLN1184-1185), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
--made a shower, & Thunder wth yr Caps & Shouts
By Messenger, in Coriolanus (TLN1196-1197), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
& had rather have my Wounds to
heal again, Than hear ^you say how I got ȳ
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1280-1281), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
As Waves before a Vessel under sail, so then did fall
below his sword----
By Cominus, in Coriolanus (TLN1319-1321), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 97
 
R.
These wounds I got wn you roard, & ran away frō ye noise of or own Drus.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1440-1447), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
Tribunes, ye Horn & noise o'th'Monsters, bandy
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1789), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
agst a graver Bench, yn ev frownd in Greece;
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1800-1801), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
Bring into th'Senat Crows to peck ye Eagles.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1836), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
What may be sworn by both Divine, & Humane,
Seal what I say.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1840-1841), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
Hence rotten thing; Or
I shall shake thy Bones out of thy Garmts __
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN1883-1884), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
'Tis ods, beyond Arithmetiq.
By Cominus, in Coriolanus (TLN1970), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
His Nr&235;Nature is too noble for yt World. He would ō
flatter Neptun for his Trident, or Jove for's
power to Thunder. His Heart's his Mouth; wt
his Brest forges, yt his Tongue must vent.
And being angry doth forget yt ev he heard
ye Name of Death.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN1983-1988), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
/ Thou noble Thing.
By Aufidius, in Coriolanus (TLN2774), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
The Blood he hath lost is more yn what he hath,
By many an Ounce: He dropt it for his Countrie.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN2036-2038), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
-- 'tis a bloody Course, & ye end of it unknown
to ye Beginning.
By First Senator, in Coriolanus (TLN2070-2072), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
// All Friends of noble Touch.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN2490), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
You might have bin enough ye man, you are,
with strivḡ less to be so --.
By Volumnia, in Coriolanus (TLN2106-2107), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
The fire i'th'lowest Hell fold in this Rabble.
Cal'st thou me Traitor, thou injurious Tribune?
wth in thy Eyes sate 20000 Deaths, In thy hands
clutcht as many Millions, in Thy lying Tongue
both Numbers; I'd say Thou lyest, wth a voice
as free, As I do pray ye gods.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN2348-2354), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
--I would not buy their mcy at ye price of one
fair Word,
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN2374-2375), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
nor have't wth saying, Good morrow
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN2376-2377), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
I love my Countrie with a respect more tender
more holy, & ꝑfound, yn my own Life, My dear
Wive's Estimate, Her wombs Encrease, the Treasure
of my Loins--
By Cominus, in Coriolanus (TLN2397-2401), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
You coon Cry of Currs, who's Breath I hate
As th'Reek of rotten Fens: you banish me?
I banish you,
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (2408-2411), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
& thus I turn Back: There
is a World elswhere.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN2422-2423-), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 98
 
(
Tho thy Tackle's torn, thou shewst a noble Vessel:
By Aufidius, in Coriolanus (TLN2718-2719), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Thy cloths make a false Report of thee.
By Second Servingman, in Coriolanus (TLN2811-2812), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
The Senators speakḡ to him stand bald before him.
By Third Servingman, in Coriolanus (TLN2853-2854), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Some News is come, yt turns his Countenance.
By , in not in source (TLN2965-2966), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
'Tis Lots to Blanks, but you have heard of him.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN3247-3248), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
-a Name, Who's Repetition shall be dogd wth Curses.
By , in not in source (TLN3500-3501), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
--No more mcy in him yn Milk in a male Tiger.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN3596-3597), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
For a few Drops of Women's Rheum (which are as cheap
as Lies) he sold ye Lab or of or great Action.
By Aufidius, in Coriolanus (TLN3701-3703), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Measureless liar, thou hast made my
Hear too great for wt ↄteins it.
By Coriolanus, in Coriolanus (TLN3773-3774), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
-- break his Oaths, like a twists of rotten silk.
By Aufidius, in Coriolanus (TLN3763-3774), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
The Tartness of his Face sours ripe grapes. wn
he walks, he moves like an Engine, & the Ground
shrinks before his tread. He is able to pierce
a corslet wth his Eye: talks like a Knell; & his -
hum is a Battery. He sits in his State like a
th made for Alexander.
By Menenius, in Coriolanus (TLN3586-3591), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
The Theam of hon or s Tongue,
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN84), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
sweet Fortune's Mi= =nion, & her pride.
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN86), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
-- ha’s not so much Grace, as may serve to be pro= =logue to an Egg, & Butter.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN135-136), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Squires of the Nights Body.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN138-139), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Diana's
Foresters. Gentlemen of ye Shade. Minions of ye Moon,
under who's countenance they steal.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN139-142), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Resolutiō fold wth ye rusty Curb of old F. Antick ye Law.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN171-172), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
--as melancholy as a Gib Cat, or a Lug'd Bear,
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN185-189), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
If Men were to be saved by merit, what hole in
Hell were hote enough for him?
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN215-216), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
For wch base Fact he in ye Worlds wide Mouth
lives Scandaliz'd & fouly spoken of
By Worcester, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN215-216), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
he has ye Receit of Ferneseed; he walks invisible.
By Gadshill, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN721), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
I think, thou wilt not utter, What thou knowst not;
And so far I'm resolv'd towill I trust thee
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN955-957), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
They call Drinkḡ deep Dying scarlet; & if you break in y or waterḡ, they cry hem; & play it off.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN979-980), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
-- yt Reverend Vice, yt gray Iniquity, yt Faker Ruffian
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1411-1412), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
yt old white-bearded Satan
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1420-1421), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 99
 
Heigh! Heigh! ye devil rides upō a Fiddlestick.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1448), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
R.
At my Birth ye Frame, & Foundön of ye Earth Shook
like a coward.
By Glendower, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1538-1542), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
The teemḡ Earth
is wth a kind of Colic pincht somtimes By ye
impris’nḡ of unruly Wind Wth in her Womb.
wch for Enlargement strivḡ shakes ye whole Frame.
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1552-1556), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
I am not in ye Roll of coon men.
By Glendower, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1568), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
He is as tedious as a tir'd Horse; a railing Wife;
Worse yn a smokie House. I'd rather Live wth
Cheese, & Garlick in a Windmill yn feed on Cates
& hear him talk in any palace in Xndom Xndom
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN1690-1695), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
--as ye Cuckow is June, heard, not regarded
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN1894-1895), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
You've made us doff or easy Robe of peace, To
Crush or old lis in ungentle- stel.
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN2649-2650), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
They face ye Garmt of Rebellion wth some fine
col or, yt may please ye Ey of fickle Changelḡs
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN2710-2713), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
-- trimd up y or praises wth a Liberal tongue;
spoke y or Deservings, like a chronicle.
By Vernon, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2842-2843), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
When ye Fight was done
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN352), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
came a Ld neat, & trimly
drest, Fresh as a Bridegroom; & his chine new reapt,
Shewd like a stubble land at Harvest-home. He
was ꝑfumed like a Millener.
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN355-358), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
Still smil'd & talkt
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN364), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
wth many Holiday & Lady-terms.
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN368), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
It made me mad,
to see him shine so bright, & smell so sweet, & talk
so like a waitḡ Gentlewom. Of fights & wounds.
By Hotspur, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN375-378), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
(fast running)
He seem'd to devour the Way.
By , in not in source (TLN101), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
His brow, like a Titleleaf, foretells a Tragedie.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN118-119), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
his pale cheeck, apt yn his tongue to tell his Errand.
Even such a Man, drew priams Curtain in ye dead
of night, told him his Troy was burnt.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN128-132), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
He hath a strange Confession in his Eye.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN154), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
And he, yt fears
the thḡ, he would not know, Hath by instinct
knowl. frō others Eyes yt wt he feard is chanc'd.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN145-147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
The Juvenal, y or Mr, who's chin is not yet fledg'd.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN294), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 100
 
 
No Remedy aḡstagainst this Consumption of ye purse:
Borrowḡ only lingers it out; but, ye Disease is incur.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN485-486), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
This is to fortify in paꝑ & in Figures.
By Lord Bardolph, in Henry IV, part 2 (TLN556-557), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
He is ye Glass wherein ye noble youth dress ȳss.
By Lady Percy, in Henry IV, part 2 (TLN979-980), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
ye copy, yt fashione'd others
By Lady Percy, in Henry IV, part 2 (TLN989-990), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
'Tis wth my Mind, as wth ye Tide, swelld up unto his
height, yt makes a stilstand, & runns neither Way.
By Northumberland, in Richard II (TLN1022-1024), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
N ev any of these demure Boies come to any ꝑof. Many fish-meals, & thin potations so over cool their Blood, that they fall into a kind of Male Greensickn.
are genally Fools & Cowards & wn they marry they get Wenches.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2327-2332), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
| A she Knight Errant.
By Beadle, in Henry IV, part 2 (TLN3194), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
The incessant care & lab or of his Mind hath wrought
ye Mure, yt sȄhld confine it in so thin yt Life
looks through & will break out.
By Clarence, in Henry IV, part 2 (TLN2504-2506), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
you've lost a Friend indeed: And I dare swear, you
borrow not yt Face of sorrow;
By Richard III, in Richard III (TLN2912-2914), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
He's Fortune's Steward.
By Falstaff, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN3156), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
R.
(Ch. Lds̄
This would drink deep.
By Bishop of Ely, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN58-59), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
his Disc. of Warr is a Battel rendred in Music:
By , in not in source (TLN84-85), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
unloses Gordian knots in policy familiar as his Garter.
By , in not in source (TLN87-88), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
G. & his Angels guard y or sacred Throne.
By , in not in source (TLN153), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
Y or own Reasons turn into y or Bosoms, as Dogs upō
yr masters, worrying you.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN711-712), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
Thou knewst ye bottom of soul; Thou mightst al= =most have coin'd me into gold, wouldst thou have
practis'd on me, for thy use.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN726-728), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
The cunning fiend, yt Wrought upō thee so, Hath
got ye Voice in Hell for Excellence: And other De= =vils yt suggest less treasons But botch, & bungle
up Damnation wth patches, col or s, forms of piety And glistring semblances. But he yt temperd thee
made thee do Treason even for Treason's sake.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN740-749), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
Can sodden water, a drench for Jades diseas'd, can Barly-broth breed ꝗcker spirits yn French Wines?
By Constable, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN1397-1400), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
You may as well say, yt 'tis a valiant Flea yt dares
eat his Breakfast on ye Lip of Lion
By Orleans, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN1774-1775), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 101
 
My pegasus. Le cheval volant. narines de feu. he bounds frō ye earth. qu. he had springs in his legs.
By Lewis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1639-1640), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
a beast for persons. pure Air, & Fire. ye duller Ele= =ments nev appear in him, but only wn he stands still til his Rider mounts him.
By Lewis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1645-1647), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
He yt rides him, soars like the hawk. he trots ye air. ye Earth sings, wn he
touches it.
By Lewis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1640-1641), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
His Neigh is like ye bidding of a Monarch.
By Lewis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1654-1655), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
He is indeed a Horse; ye Rest are Beasts, & Jades
By Louis, the Dauphin, in King John (TLN1649-1650), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
you may as well go about to turn ye sun to Ice, by
fanning in his Face wth a peacock's Feather.
By Williams, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN2046-2049), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
-- ragged, & poor, & ill become ye Field, yt Mars seevies banckrupt in yr beggerd Host:
By Grandpre, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN2212-2215), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
while ye Execrs
ye knavish Crows Fly ore ȳ all impatient for yr hour.
By Grandpre, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN2223-2225), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
There's not a piece of Feather in yr Host:
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2359), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
-- & being dead, like unto Bullets grating, Break
out into a 2d course of mischief.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2352-2353), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
I would have stopt them: But I had not so much of
man in me; And all my mother came into my Eyes,
And gave me up to tears.
By Exeter, in Henry V (Q1) (TLN2513-2516), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Let now be sung, Non Nobis, & Te Deum.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN2844), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
If thou canst love a fellow, whos Face is ō worth
ye sun burnḡ; yt nev lacks in his glass for Love of
any thḡ he sees there; O speak to thee plain
soldier) Take me.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN3135-3140), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Away wth these Fellows of
inf. tongue, that rime ȳss. into Ladie's favours.
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN3145-3146), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
A speaker is but a prater, a Rhyme but a Ballast.
a good leg will fall, a streight back will stoop.
a black beard will turn white. a curld pate will
grow bald. a fair face will wither. a full Eye
will wax hollow: But a good Heart ---
By Prince Hal, in Henry IV, part 1 (TLN3148-3151), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Heark, Englishmen: either renew ye fight, Or tear
ye Lions out of Englands coat. Give sheep in stead of them
They run not half so fast from wolues
By Talbot, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN623-626), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
His promises art like Adonis Garden, yt one day
bloom'd & fruitf. were ye next.
By Charles, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN646-647), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Grey locks ye pursuivants of Death,
By Mortimer, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN1075), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
&; Eyes like
wasting Lamps, who's Oil is spent.
By Mortimer, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN1078), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Weak shoulders
ovborn wth burthenḡ Grief, & pitchless Arms like
witherd Vines yt droop yr sapless Branches to ye Grd
By Mortimer, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN1080-1082), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Submission, Dolphin? Tis a meer French Word; We
Engl. Warriors wot not, wt it means.
By Lucy, in Henry VI, part 1 (TLN2288-2289), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
Churchmen so hot?
By Gloucester, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN742), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
tantæne animis cœlestib. irae?
By Gloucester, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN742), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 102
 
The hungry Eagle might as well be set to guard
yt chicken frō a ravenous kite:
By York, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN1550-1551), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
As well ye Fox be made Surveyor of ye Fold.
By Suffolk, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN1555), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Steel, if thou be here turn Edge.
By Cade, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN2960), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
-- maist thou be
turn'd to Hobnails.
By Cade, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN2963), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Of Richard 3d|
Love did forswear him in his Mothers womb;
By Gloucester, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN1677), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
That he might nev deal in her soft laws, He did cor= rupt frail Nr&235;Nature with some Bribe, To shrink his Arm
up like a witherd shrub, To make an envious-
Mountain on his back, Where sits Deformity to
mock his Body, To shape his legs of an unequal size
To dispportion his in evy pt, like to a chaos, or
unlickt Bearswhelp, That carries no Impression
like ye Dam̄.
By Gloucester, in Henry VI, part 2 (TLN1678-1686), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
I’d rather chop this Hand off wth a blow, And wth ye other
fling it at thy face, Than bear so low a sail to strike to ^thee
By , in not in source (TLN2728-2730), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
(of Warwick’s fall
Thus yields ye Cedar to ye Axes Edge, Who’s Arms gave
shelter to ye princely Eagle, Under Who’s shade the
ramping Lion slept, Who’s top branch overpeerd
Jove’s spreadḡ tree, And kept low shrubs from Winter’s
powerf. wind.
By , in not in source (TLN2812-2816), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Lascivious Edw. pjur’d George, misshapen Dick
By Prince Edward, in Henry VI, part 3 (TLN3009-3010), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Richard 3d|
The owl shrik’d at his Birth, ye night crow
cry’d, The Raven croak’d upō ye chimney’s Top; And
chattring pies in dismal Discord sung; His mother
felt more yn a mothers pain And yet brought forth
less yn a mothers Hope, A rude, deform’d & indigested Lump,
By King Henry IV, in Richard II (TLN3128--3125), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
came into ye World wth his legs forward:
By Richard II, in Richard II (TLN3147), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
ye midwife, & ye women cry’d O Jesu bless me, he
is born wth teeth;
By Richard II, in Richard II (TLN3150-3151), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
As he would bite ye World
By , in not in source (TLN3128), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Impatient passengers assist ye Storm; are louder yn ye weather; hinder the Seamens tabor.
By Boatswain, in The Tempest (TLN21-22), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
This insolent Noisemaker
By Antonio, in The Tempest (TLN52 TLN38-41), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
This wide- chopt rascall ( I
would he might lie drownḡ ye washḡ of 10 Tides!)
By Antonio, in The Tempest (TLN65-66), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
he’ll be hangd yet, tho evy drop of wat swam agst it.
By Gonzalo, in The Tempest (TLN68-70), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Now would I give 1000 furlongs of Sea for an Acre
of ground, long heath, brown firrs, or any thḡ.
By Gonzalo, in The Tempest (TLN77-79), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
Wt, is’t puts the wild waters in ys Roar?
By Miranda, in The Tempest (TLN83), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
--a rotten ship, ye very Rats instictively had qtt it.
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN251-253), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
R.
Dost hear?
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN203-204), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 103
 
-- cry’d Hell is empty, & all ye Devils here.
By Ariel, in The Tempest (TLN228-229), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
-- coolḡ ye Air with sighs.
By Ariel, in The Tempest (TLN339), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
his Arms in this sad knot.
By Ariel, in The Tempest (TLN341), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
venting his Grones as fast as Mill-wheels strike.
By Ariel, in The Tempest (TLN407-408), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Hark; H. I hear ye strain of struttḡ Chanticlear.
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN228-229), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
The fringed Curtain of thine Eye advance,
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN551), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
(1. ye K.
myself am Naples.
By , in not in source (TLN584), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
At ye first sight they chang’d Eyes—
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN592-593), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
There’s no thḡ ill can dwell in such a Temple. If
ye ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things
will strive to dwell wth ’t.
By Miranda, in The Tempest (TLN612-614), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
He’s windḡ up ye watch of ’s Wit; by & by ’twill stirke
By Sebastian, in The Tempest (TLN687-688), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
R:
The Air breathes sweetly on us.
By Adrian, in The Tempest (TLN721-723), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Wt a monster is’t? Were he in Engld, not a Holiday- fool there, but would give 6d for sight of him.
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN203-204), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
--no more endure’t
By Ferdinand, in The Tempest (TLN1307), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
yn ye fleshflie to blow my mouth.
By Ferdinand, in The Tempest (TLN1309), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
If – by this hand I’ll supplant some of y or Teeth.
By , in not in source (TLN1400), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
I’ll
turn my Mercy out o’doors, & make a stockfish of thee
By , in not in source (TLN1420), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
--such Gestures; a kind of excellt dumb Discourse
By Alonso, in The Tempest (TLN1563-1563), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
He doth outstrip all praise, & make it halt behind him.
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN1661-1662), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
I would beleev’t agst an oracle.
By , in not in source (TLN1663-1664), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Are Phebus steeds founderd? is might kept chain’d below?
By Ferdinand, in The Tempest (TLN1683-1684), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
No tongue! All eyes! Be silent
By Prospero, in The Tempest (TLN1717), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
turn’d to Apes wth foreheads villanous low.
By Caliban, in The Tempest (TLN1922-1923), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Now, Blasphemy! yt swar’st Grace overboard
By Gonzalo, in The Tempest (TLN2204-2205), William Shakespeare
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Spirit, my queint Ariel.
By , in not in source (TLN453-454), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 104
 
Poor banckrupt Heart, not havḡ where wth all to pay
all, yt was due, It broke--
By , in not in source (5(t).2.189-191), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
They sleep to Night in yr windḡ sheets, I think;
there’s such a genral Quiet.
By , in not in source (5(t).3.1-3), not in source
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
All must die: The Sisters spin no Cables for us
mortals; Tis but a single thrid.
By Orbella, in Aglaura (5(t).3.26-28), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
A secret ‘tis durst know no Air before.
By Ziriff, in Aglaura (5(t).3.45-47), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
‘tis Strange! this night is big with Miracle.
By Orbella, in Aglaura (5(t).3.52), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
So rises day, blushḡ at Night’s deformity.
By Ziriff, in Aglaura (5(t).3.109), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
I’ll weep mys. away, & melt into a Grave.
By Orbella, in Aglaura (5(t).3.142-143), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
We’ll weep till we are Blind: for who would
see ye Miseries behind?
By Philan, in Aglaura (5(t).3.182-183), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
Forgotten sleep for ever, All but thine Ills: which may
succeedḡ Time remember, as ye seaman doth his
marks, to know what to avoid_
--at whos Name all good men start, As if it were
Infection to the Air.
By Orbella, in Aglaura (5(t).2.121-126), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
Man, Nature’s Heir.
By Orbella, in Aglaura (2.3.12), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
R.
Tell none.
By Jolina, in Aglaura (1.1.20-22), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
Pitty, & Love ye Bosses only be of Govnmt meerly
for Shew & Ornamt. Fear is ye bit, yt Man’s proud
Will restreins.
By King, in Aglaura (1.3.2-5), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
– Whisper is Court-Thunder.
By Courtier 2, in Aglaura (2.5.2), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
These pretty ambushes & Traps for hearts
By King, in Aglaura (1.3.8), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
Nature hath robd yor sex; gave all to You.
By King, in Aglaura (1.3.19), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
Such gentle Rape thou actst upo my soul & with
such pleasḡ violence forcest it that wn it shd re
sist, it tamely yields, Making a kind of Hast to be
undone: as if ye Way to Victory were Loss, &
conquest came by overthrow.
By King, in Aglaura (1.3.22-27), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
--started, as if they’d been to run a Race
By Courtier 1, in Aglaura (2.5.7-8), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 111
 
What? walkḡ on ye top of pyraminds, & whispering
yors. away, like a deny’d Lover?
By Jolas, in Aglaura (1.3.57-58), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 112
 
Faces are like Books: they yt study ym, know ym
best: & to say Truth, ‘tis still much as it pleases
ye courteous Reader.
By Jolas, in Aglaura (1.3.57-58), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 112
 
Plaies are either bad or good. The Good (if
they do beg) beg to be understood. And in good
Faith, yt has a bold a sound, As if a Beggar shd
ask 20 Men have it not about ym.
By Prologue, in Aglaura (Prologue.3-7), Sir John Suckling
in Bodleian Library MS Sancroft 29, p. 112