SLEEP,-continued.

Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast,
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains,
In cradle of the rude imperious surge;
And in the visitation of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,

Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy, in an hour so rude:
And, in the calmest, and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

The deep of night is crept upon our talk,
And Nature must obey necessity.

H. IV. PT. II. iii. 1.

J.C. iv. 3.

R. J. ii. 3.

Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting sleep
With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep. M. N. iii. 2.
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.
To bed, to bed: Sleep kill those pretty eyes,
And give as soft attachment to thy senses,
As infants empty of all thought.

Fast asleep? It is no matter;
Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber;
Thou hast no figures, nor no fantasies,
Which busy care draws in the brains of men ;
Therefore thou sleep'st so sound.

T. C. iv. 2.

J.C. ii. 1.

M. N. iii. 2.

Sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye,
Steal me awhile from mine own company.
So sorrow's heaviness doth heavier grow,
For debt that bankrupt sleep doth sorrow owe.
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her.

SLOTH.

M. N. iii. 2.
Cym. ii. 2.

What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to lock it from action and adventure? Cym. iv. 4. Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss. H. IV. PT. I. iv. 3. SMELL.

What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very antient and fish-like smell.

T. ii. 2.

Master Brook, there was the rankest compound of villanous smells, that ever offended nostril. M. W. iii. 5.

SMILES.

When time shall serve, there shall be smiles.
Some, that smile, have in their hearts, I fear,
Millions of mischief.

AND TEARS.

Patience and sorrow strove

H.V. ii. 1.

J.C. iv. 1.

Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once: her smiles and tears
Were like a better day: Those happy smiles,
That play'd on her ripe lip, seem'd not to know
What guests were in her eyes; which parted thence,
As pearls from diamonds dropp'd. In brief, sorrow
Would be a rarity most belov'd, if all

Though he comes slowly, he carries his house on his head, and brings his destiny with him, his horns; he comes armed in his fortune, and prevents the slander of his wife. A. Y. iv. 1.

A try'd and valiant soldier.

Soldiers should brook as little wrongs, as gods.
Consider this: He hath been bred i' the wars
Since he could draw a sword, and is ill-school'd
In boulted language; meal and bran together
He throws without distinction.

Cym. iv. 2.

J.C. iv. 1.

T. A. iii. 5.

C. iii. 3.

He that is truly dedicate to war, hath no self-love.
H. VI. PT. II. v. 2.

Consider further,

That when he speaks not like a citizen,
You find him like a soldier: Do not take
His rougher accents for malicious sounds,
But, as I say, such as become a soldier.

C. iii. 3.

SOLDIER,-continued.
The armipotent soldier.

'Tis the soldiers' life

To have their balmy slumbers wak'd with strife.

'Tis much he dares;

And, to the dauntless temper of his mind,

He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety.

A braver soldier never couched lance,

A. W. iv. 3.

O. ii. 3.

M. iii. 1.

A gentler heart did never sway in court. H. VI. PT. 1. iii. 2.

I am a soldier; and unapt to weep,
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.

Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier and afraid?
Trailest thou the puissant pike?

H.VI. PT. I. v. 3.

M. v. 1. H.V. iv. 1.

Go to the wars, would you? where a man may serve seven years for the loss of a leg, and have not money enough at the end to buy him a wooden one? P. P. iv. 6.

Faith, Sir, he has led the drum before the English trage-
dians, to belie him I will not,-and more of his soldiership
I know not; except, in that country, he had the honour to
be the officer at a place there called Mile End, to instruct
for the doubling of files: I would do the man what honour
I can, but of this I am not certain.
A. W. iv. 3.

All furnish'd, all in arms,
All plum'd like estridges that wing the wind;
Bated like eagles having lately bath'd;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.

H. IV. PT. I. iv. 1.

Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder; they'll find a pit as well as better.

IN LOVE.

H. IV. PT. I. iv. 2.

I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
That lik'd, but had a rougher task in hand
Than to drive liking to the name of love:
But now I am return'd, and that war-thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires.

May that soldier a mere recreant prove,
That means not, hath not, or is not in love.

M. A. i. 1.

T.C. i. 3.

SOLDIER'S DEATH.

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only liv'd but till he was a man ;
The which no sooner had his prowess
confirm'd,
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

They say he parted well, and paid his score;
So God be with him,

I pray you, bear me hence

From forth the noise and rumour of the field;
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires.

So underneath the belly of their steeds,

That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood,

M. v. 7.

M. v. 7

K. J. v. 5.

The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. H. VI. PT. II. ïi. 3.
Why then, God's soldier be he!

Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.

M. v. 7.

K. L. v. 3.

P. P. i. 1.

This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,

I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

And, to the nightingale's complaining notes,
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.

T.G. v. 4.

SOMNAMBULISM.

A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and to do the effects of watching. M. v. 1.

SONG.

I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs: More, I pr'ythee, more. A. Y. ii. 5.

My mother had a maid call'd Barbara ;

She was in love; and he she lov'd prov'd mad,
And did forsake her: she had a song of Willow,
An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune,
And she died singing it.

She bids you

O. iv. 3.

Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,
And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep,
As is the difference betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team
Begins his golden progress in the east. H. IV. PT. 1. iii. 1.
'Fore heaven, an excellent song.

O. ii. 3.
Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. O. ii. 3.

Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night;
Methought it did relieve my passion much;
More than light airs and recollected terms,
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.

It hath been sung at festivals,

On ember eves and holy ales;

And lords and ladies of their lives

Have read it for restoratives.

T. N. ii. 4.

P. P. i. chorus.

Mark it, Cesario; it is old, and plain;

The spinsters, and the knitters in the sun,

And the free maids that weave their thread with bones,

Do use to chant it; it is silly sooth,

And dallies with the innocence of love,

Like the old age.

SONG, POPULAR.

T. N. ii. 4.

No hearing, no feeling, but my Sir's song; and admiring the nothing of it.

W. T. iv. 3.

There's scarce a maid westward but she sings it: 'tis in request, I can tell you. W. T. iv. 3.