What win I, if I gain the thing I seek?

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.

Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week,

Or sells eternity to get a toy?

For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?

Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown,

Would with the sceptre straight be stricken down? Lucrece, St. 31.

WOMAN (See Marriage)

She hath all courtly parts, more exquisite

Than lady, ladies, woman: from every one

The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all. Cymb. 3: 5.

Ay, as the glasses where they view themselves;
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
Women!-Help, heaven! men their creation mar
In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail;
For we are soft as our complexions are

And credulous to false prints. Meas. for Meas. 2: 4.

She never told her love,

But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,

Feed on her damask cheek: she pin'd in thought,

She sat like patience on a monument

Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?

We men may say more, swear more: but indeed

Our shows are more than will; for still we prove

Much in our vows, but little in our love. Twelfth Night 2: 4.

Let me speak myself,

Since virtue finds no friends—a wife, a true one?

A woman, (I dare say without vain-glory,)

Never yet branded with suspicion?

Have I with all my full affections

Still met the King? lov'd him next Heaven? obey'd him?

Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? . . .

Almost forgot my prayers to content him?

Bring me a constant woman to her husband,
One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure;
And to that woman, when she has done most,

Yet will I add an honor,—a great patience. Hen. VIII. 3: 1.

WORLD, THE

O wicked, wicked world! Merry Wives 2: 1.

O, how full of briars is this working-day world! As You Like It 1: 3.

That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. Rich. III. 1: 3.

World, world, O world!

But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee,
Life would not yield to age. King Lear 4: I.

I am in this earthly world; where, to do harm,
Is often laudable! to do good, sometime
Accounted dangerous folly. Macb. 4: 2.

Why this

Is the world's soul; and just of the same piece
Is every flatterer's part. Timon 3:2.

The world is but a word;

Were it all yours, to give it in a breath,
How quickly were it gone? Timon 2:2.

You have too much respect upon the world
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
I hold the world but as the world

A stage, where every man plays a part. Mer. of Ven. 1: 1.

This wide and universal theatre

Presents more woful pageants, than the scene
Wherein we play in. All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. As You Like It 2: 7.

A

O, what a world is this, when what is comely
Envenoms him that bears it! .

O, good old man! how well in thee appears
The constant favor of the antique world,
When service sweat for duty, not for meed!
Thou art not for the fashion of these times,
Where none will sweat but for promotion,
And having that, do choke their service up
Even with the having. As You Like It 2: 3.

I have been studying how I may compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world:
And for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,

I cannot do it: yet I'll hammer 't out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world;
In humors like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,
As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word;

As thus,-"Come, little ones;" and then again,

"It is as hard to come, as for a camel

To thread the postern of a needle's eye." Rich. II. 5: 5.

A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears. King Lear 4:6.

WORLDLY HONORS AND GLORY (See Life)

Glory grows guilty of detested crimes

When, for fame's sake, for praise, an outward part,

We bend to that the working of the heart. Love's Labor 4: 1.

O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us!
Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt,

Since riches point to misery and contempt?

Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live
But in a dream of friendship? Timon 4: 2.

By him that rais'd me to this careful height.
I had rather be a country servant-maid
Than a great queen, with this condition

To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at

Small joy have I in being England's queen. Rich. III. 1: 3.

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!
My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,
Even now forsake me; and, of all my lands,

Is nothing left me, but my body's length.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?

And, live we how we can, yet die we must.

Warwick bids you all farewell, to meet in heaven. III Hen. VI. 5: 2.

Why doth the crown lie there, upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?

O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night, sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet,
As he, whose brow with homely biggin bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armor worn in heat of day,
That scalds with safety.

. . . There is your crown;
And He that wears the crown immortally,
Long guard it yours! If it affect it more,

Than as your honor, and as your renown,

Let me no more from this obedience rise,

(Which my most true and inward duteous spirit
Teacheth,)—this prostrate and exterior bending.
Heaven witness with me, when I here came in,
And found no course of breath within your majesty,
How cold it struck my heart! if I do feign,
O! let me in my present wildness die,
And never live to show th' incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed.
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
I spake unto the crown, as having sense,

...

And thus upbraided it: "The care on thee depending,
Hath fed upon the body of my father;

Therefore, thou, best of gold, art worst of gold.
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Preserving life in medicine potable:

But thou, most fine, most honor'd, most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up."

God knows, my son,

By what by-paths, and indirect crook'd ways,

I met this crown; and I myself know well

How troublesome it sat upon my head. II Hen. IV. 4: 4