SECRECY,-continued.

But yet a woman: and for secrecy,

No lady closer; for I well believe,

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul.

This secret is so weighty, 'twill require
A strong faith to conceal it.

Two may keep counsel, putting one away.
A juggling trick to be secretly open.

SECURITY.

H. IV. PT. 1. ii. 3.

Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;
As broad and general as the casing air.
Shut doors after you: Fast hind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
But yet I'll make assurance doubly sure,
And take a bond of fate.

H. i. 5.

H. V. III. ii. 1.

R. J. ii. 4.
T.C. v. 2.

M. iii. 4.

M. V. ii. 5.

M. iv. 1.

I look'd he should have sent me two-and-twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he sends me,-security. H. IV. PT. 1. i. 2.

A rascally, yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, and then stand upon security! H. IV. PT. II. i. 2. SEDITION.

Here do we make his friends

Blush, that the world goes well; who rather had
Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold
Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see
Our tradesmen singing in their shops, and going
About their functions friendly.

These things, indeed, you have articulated,
Proclaim'd at market crosses, read in churches;
To face the garment of rebellion

With some fine colour, that may please the eye
Of fickle changelings, and poor discontents,
Which gape, and rub the elbow, at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation:

And never yet did insurrection want
Such water-colours to impaint his cause;
Nor moody beggars, starving for a time,
Of pell-mell havoc and confusion.

C. iv. 6.

H. IV. PT. I. v. 1.

SEDITION,-continued.

The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who,
Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger
And lack of other means, in desperate manner
Daring the event to th' teeth, are all in uproar,
And danger serves among them.

SEDUCTION.

H. VIII. i. 2.

Then if he says he loves you;
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,
As he, in his particular act and place,
May give his saying deed; which is no further,
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
If with too credent ear you list his songs;
Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster'd importunity.

Ay, so you serve us,
Till we serve you: but when you have our roses,
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
And mock us with our bareness.

H. i. 3.

A. W. iv. 2.

This man hath witch'd the bosom of my child:
Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes,
And interchang'd love tokens with my child:
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung,
With feigning voice, verses of feigning love;
And stol'n th' impression of her phantasy
With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits,
Knacks, trifles, nosegays, sweetmeats; messengers
Of strong prevailment in unharden'd youth:
With cunning hast thou filch'd my daughter's heart,
Turn'd her obedience, which is due to me,
To stubborn harshness.

O cunning enemy, that to catch a saint,
With saints doth bait thy hook!

M. N. i. 1.

M. M. ii. 2.

Many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so terribly shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are lim'd with the twigs that threaten them.

Devils soonest tempt, resembling spirits of light.

Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers;
Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowering bank,

A. W. iii. 5.

L. L. iv. 3.

With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child,

That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent. H. VI. PT. II. iii. 1.

SEEING.

I have a good eye, uncle: I can see a church by day-light.

SEEMING.

Out on thy seeming! I will write against it:
You seem to me as Dian in her orb;

As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown ;

But you are more intemperate in your blood
Than Venus, or those pamper'd animals
That rage in savage sensuality.

SELF-CONCEited.

M. A. ii. 1.

M. A. iv. 1.

The best persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his ground of faith, that all, that look on him, love him.

Look, how imagination blows him.

SELF-DENIAL.

The greatest virtue of which wise men boast,
Is to abstain from ill, when pleasing most.

SELF-GOVERNMENT.

T. N. ii. 3.

T. N. ii. 5.

Poems.

Virtue? a fig! 'Tis in ourselves that we are thus, or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce; set hyssop, and weed up thyme; supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many; either to have it steril with idleness, or manured with industry; why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our own wills.

SELFISHNESS.

O. i. 3.

Torches are made to burn; jewels to wear; Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse. Poems. SELF-LOVE.

As self-neglecting.

Self-love is not so vile a sin

H.V. ii. 4.

O villanous! I have lived upon the world four times seven years; and since I could distinguish between a benefit and an injury, I never found a man that knew not how to love himself. O. i. 3. SENATORS.

These old fellows

Have their ingratitude in them hereditary:
Their blood is cak'd, tis cold, it seldom flows;
'Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind;
And nature, as it grows again towards earth,
Is fashioned for the journey, dull, and heavy.

T. A. ii. 2.

SENTENTIOUS.

By my faith he is very swift and sententious.
SEPULCHRE.

The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones."

SERVANT, UNPROFITABLE.

The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder,
Snail-slow in profit.

SET PHRASES.

O! never will I trust to speeches penn❜d,

Nor to the motion of a school-boy's tongue;
Nor never come in visor to my friend;

Nor woo in rhyme, like a blind harper's song;
Taffata phrases, silken terms precise,

Three-pil'd hyperboles, spruce affectation,
Figures pedantical; these summer flies

Have blown me full of maggot ostentation:
I do forswear them.

SEVERITY.

Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye.

SHAME.

A. Y. v. 4.

M. ii. 4.

M.V. ii. 5.

L. L. v. 2.

R. III. iv. 2.

Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks:
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,

Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it.

Shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.

A sovereign shame so elbows him.

O shame! where is thy blush?

0. iv. 2.

H. VI. PT. II. i. 4.

K. L. iv. 3.

H. iii. 4.

The shame itself doth speak for instant remedy. K. L. i. 4.

He is unqualitied with very shame.

Heaven's face doth glow;

Yea, this solidity and compound mass,

With tristful visage, as against the doom,

Is thought-sick at the act.

He was not born to shame;

Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;

For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

Fie, fie, they are

Not to be nam'd, my lord, not to be spoke of;
There is not chastity enough in language,

Without offence to utter them.

A. C. iii. 9.

H. iii. 4.

R. J. iii. 2.

M. A. iv. 1.

SHEPHERD'S PHILOSOPHY.

I know, the more one sickens, the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, means, and content, is without three good friends:-That the property of rain is to wet, and fire to burn: That good pasture makes fat sheep; and that a great cause of the night, is lack of the sun: That he, that hath learned no wit by nature, nor art, may complain of good breeding, or comes of a very dull kindred. A. Y. iii. 2.

SHERIFF'S Officer.

One, whose hard heart is button'd up with steel;
A fiend, a fairy, pitiless and rough;

A wolf, nay worse, a fellow all in buff;

A back-friend, a shoulder-clapper, one that countermands
The passages of alleys, creeks, and narrow lands;

A hound that runs counter, and yet draws dry-foot well;
One that, before judgment, carries poor souls to hell.

SHIPWRECKS (See also SEA).

C. E. iv. 2.

The king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring, (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.

Not a soul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd

Some tricks of desperation.

In few, they hurried us aboard the bark;

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd

A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats

Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

To comfort you with chance,

Assure yourself, after our ship did split,

When you, and that poor number sav'd with you,
Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,

Most provident in peril, bind himself

(Courage and hope both teaching him the practice)
To a strong mast, that liv'd upon the sea,
Where, like Arion on the dolphin's back,

I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves,
So long as I could see.

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks.

T. i. 2.

T. i. 2

T. i. 2.

T. N. i. 2.

M. V. iii. 2.