is worth in anything,
But so much money as 'twill bring.

Part ii. Canto n. Line 29

The sun had long since in the lap
Of Thetis taken out his nap,
And, like a lobster boiled, the morn
From black to red began to turn.

Part ii. Canto ii. Line 79

Have always been at daggers-drawing.
And one another clapper-clawing.

Part ii. Canto ii Line 503

And look before you ere you leap;
For as you sow, y' are like to reap.

Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1.

Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated, as to cheat.

Part ii. Canto iii. Line 261.

He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no....
And prove that she's not made of green cheese.[6]

[Note 6: "The moon is made of a green cheese"
_Jack Jugler_, p. 46.]

Part ii. Canto iii. Line 580

You have a wrong sow by the ear.

Part ii. Canto iii. Line 923

To swallow gudgeons ere they're catched,
And count their chickens ere they're hatched.

Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1067

As quick as lightning, in the breach
Just in the place where honor 's lodged,
As wise philosophers have judged,
Because a kick in that place more
Hurts honor than deep wounds before,

Part iii. Canto i. Line 3

As he that has two strings t' his bow.

Part iii. Canto ii. Line 175.

True as the dial to the sun,
Although it be not sinned upon.

Part iii. Canto iii. Line 243

For those that fly may fight again,
Which he can never do that's slain.

* * * * *

Part iii. Canto iii. Line 547

He that complies against his will
Is of his own opinion still.

* * * * *

MARQUIS OF MONTROSE.
1612-1650.

_Song_, "_My Dear and only Love_."

I'll make thee famous by my pen,
And glorious by my sword.

* * * * *

DRYDEN.
1631-1700.

_Alexander's feast_.

Line 15.

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Line 60.

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Line 66.

Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;
And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice
he slew the slain.

Line 78,

Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood;
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

Line 96.

For pity melts the mind to love.

Line 99.

War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honor,