"My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remember'st Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music." _Midsum. Night's D., ii_. 1.
"Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon." _King Henry V., iii_. 5.
"His face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips plows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue, and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire is out." _Ibid., iii_. 6.
"O, then th' Earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity. Diseasèd Nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions; oft the teeming Earth Is with a kind of cholic pinch'd and vex'd By the imprisoning of unruly wind Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, Shakes the old beldame Earth, and topples down Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth, Our grandam Earth, having this distemperature, In passion shook." 1 _King Henry IV., iii_. 1.
"Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand Keep the wild flood-confin'd! let order die! And let this world no longer be a stage To feed contention in a lingering act; But let one spirit of the first-born Cain Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, And darkness be the burier of the dead!" 2 _King Henry IV., i_. 1.
"An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, Before he was what thou would'st have him be! And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up. So, so, thou common dog, did'st thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; And now thou would'st eat thy dead vomit up, And howl'st to find it." _Ibid., i_. 3.
"But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill." _Hamlet, i_. 1.
"So, haply slander-- Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports his poison'd shot--may miss our name, And hit the woundless air." _Ibid., iv_. 1.