468. Botrus oppositus botro citius maturescit.-Eras. Ad. 672. (Cluster against cluster ripens the quicker.)

Wholesome berries thrive and ripen best

Neighboured by fruit of baser quality. (H. V. i. 1.)

469. Old treacle new losange.

An old cloak makes a new jerkin; a withered serving-man, a fresh tapster. (Mer. Wiv. i. 3.)

A pair of old breeches thrice turned. Your old smock brings forth a new one. (2 Hen. VI. iv. 2. 4–6.)

470. Soft fire makes sweet malt.

(Tam. Sh. iii. 2.)

(Ant. Cl. i. 2.)

471. Good to be merry and wise. Wives may be merry and yet honest too. We do not act that often jest and laugh.

(Mer. Wiv. iv. 2.)

Your experience makes you sad. I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad. (As Y. L. iv. 1.)

472. Seldome cometh the better.

Seldom cometh the better. (R. III. ii. 2.)

473. He must needes swymme that is held up by the chynne.

I have ventured,

Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
This many summers in a sea of glory;
But far beyond my depth. My high-blown pride
At length broke under me, and now has left me,
Weary and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.

(H. VIII. iii. 2.)

Your shallowest help will hold me up afloat. (Sonnet lxxx.)

474. He that will sell lawne before he can fold it shall repent him before he hath sold it.

475. No man loveth his fetters though they be of gold.'

To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,

Which fondly you would here impose on me. (R. III. iii. 7.)

A manacle of love. (Cymb. i. 1.)

476. The nearer the Church the furder from God.

Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh,

And ne'er throughout the year to church thou goest,
Except it be to pray against thy foes. (1 Hen. VI. i. 1.)

How he glisters through my rust. (W. T. iii. 2.)

Verily,

I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born.

Than to be perked up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow. (H. VIII. ii. 3.)

478. Beggars should be no chuzers.
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
When his fair angels would salute my palm,
But for my hand, as unattempted yet

Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. (John, iii. 1.)
Lord. Would not the beggar then forget himself?
1 Hun. Believe me, lord, I think he cannot choose.

(Tam. Sh. Ind. i.)

479. A beck is as good as a dieu vous garde.

Dieu vous garde, Monsieur.

(Tw. N. iii. 1.)

Over my spirit

Thy full supremacy thou know'st; and that
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
Command me. (Ant. Cl. iii. 9, and iii. 6, 65.)

Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home.
(Ib. iv. 10.)

Cassius. Must bend his body

If Cæsar carelessly but nod at him. (Jul. Cæs. i. 1.)

(About thirty-six passages on Nodding and Beckoning.) See Spanish Proverbs, Appendix C.

mosse.

480. The rowling stone never gathereth (Saxum volutum non obducitur musco.-Er. Ad. 723.)

481. Better children weep than old men.

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,

As full of grief as age;
You think I'll weep;

No, I'll not weep;

I have full cause for weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep. (Lear, ii. 4.)

I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture

Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief;

Tears, then, for babes: blows and revenge for me.

(3 H. VI. ii. 1.)

Folio 926.

482. When fall is heckst boot is next.

483. Ill plaieing with short dager (taunting replie).

Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa. fourscore ducats.

Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me!

I wear not my dagger in my mouth.

in one night

(Mer. Ven. iii. 1.)
(Cymb. iv. 2.)

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

(Ham. iii. 2.)

These words like daggers enter in. (7b. iii. 4.)

She speaks poniards, and every word stabs. (M. Ado, ii. 1.)
This sudden stab of rancour. (R. III. iii. 2.)

Daggers in smiles. (Cymb. ii. 3.)

Let

my words stab him, as he hath me. (2 H. VI. iv. 1.) She I killed! I did so; but thou strik'st me

Sorely to say I did. (W. T. v. 1.)

484. He that never clymb never fell.

They that mount high,. . . . if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. (R. III. i. 4.)

486. Itch and ease can no man please.
Dissentious rogues,

That rubbing the poor itch of your opinion,
Make yourselves scabs. (Cor. i. 1.)

Socrates said that the felicity of the sophist was the felicity of one who is always itching and always scratching. (Advt. vii. 2.)

487. Too much of one thing is good for nothing.
More than a little is by much too much. (1 Hen. IV. iii. 2.)
Can we desire too much of a good thing? (A8 Y. L. iv. 1.)
Fri. L. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Jul. As much to him-else in his thanks too much.

God hath lent us but this only child;

(Rom. Jul. ii. 6.)

And now I see this one is one too much. (Ib. iii. 5.)

488. Ever spare and ever bare.

She hath in that sparing made huge waste. (Rom. Jul. ii. 6.)

Love lacking vestals and self-loving nuns

That on the earth would breed a scarcity

And barren dearth of sons and daughters. (Ven. Adonis.)

489. A catt may look on a kynge.

Ben. What is Tybalt?

Mer. More than prince of cats. (Rom. Jul. iv. 2.)

Ben. We talk here in the public haunts of men:

All eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
Tyb. Here comes my man.

...

What would'st thou have with me?

Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. (R. Jul. iii. 1.)

490. He had need to be a wily mouse should breed in the catt's ear.

That's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast

On the lip of a lion. (H. V. iii. 7.)

491. Many a man speaketh of Robin Hood that never shott in his bowe.

A man may by the eye set up the white right in the midst of the butt, though he be no archer. (Advice to Essex.)

492. Batchelors wives and maids children are well taught.

493. God sendeth fortune to fools.

'Good-morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, 'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune.'

(As Y. L. i. 2.)

494. Better are meales many than one to mery.
495. Many kiss the child for the nurse's sake.
496. When the head akes, all the body is the woorse.

497. When thieves fall out, trew men come to their good.

A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true. (H. IV. ii. 2.)
Rich preys make true men thieves. (Ven. Ad.)

498. An yll wind that bloweth no man to good.

Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. (3 Hen. VI. ii. 5.)
What happy gale blows you to Padua

(Tam. Sh. i. 2.)