_Coriolanus_, act v, sc. 4 (18).

(3) _Song._

Come, thou monarch of the Vine,
Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drown'd,
With thy Grapes our hairs be crown'd.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act ii, sc. 7 (120).

(4) _Cleopatra._

Now no more
The juice of Egypt's Grape shall moist this lip.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (284).

(5) _Timon._

Dry up thy Marrows, Vines, and plough-torn leas.

_Timon of Athens_, act iv, sc. 3 (193).

(6) _Timon._

Go, suck the subtle blood o' the Grape,
Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth.

_Ibid._ (432).

(7) _Touchstone._

The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a Grape,
would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning
thereby that Grapes were made to eat and lips to open.

_As You Like It_, act v, sc. 1 (36).

(8) _Iago._

Blessed Fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of Grapes.

_Othello_, act ii, sc 1 (250).

(9) _Lafeu._

O, will you eat no Grapes, my royal fox?
Yes, but you will my noble Grapes, an if
My royal fox could reach them.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, act ii, sc. 1 (73).

(10) _Lafeu._

There's one Grape yet.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 1 (105).

(11) _Pompey._

'Twas in "The Bunch of Grapes," where, indeed, you have a
delight to sit.

_Measure for Measure_, act ii, sc. 1 (133).

(12) _Constable._

Let us quit all
And give our Vineyards to a barbarous people.

_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 5 (3).

(13) _Burgundy._

Her Vine, the merry cheerer of the heart,
Unpruned, dies. . . .
. . . . . .
Our Vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges,
Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (41, 54).

(14) _Mortimer._

And pithless arms, like to a wither'd Vine
That droops his sapless branches to the ground.