TREES. 
3i 
Belarius . . . . and yet as rough, 
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest wind, 
That by the top doth take the mountain pine 
And make him stoop to the vale. 
Cymbeline, Act iv. Scene 2. 
ASPEN. 
Hostess. . . . feel, masters, how I shake ; look 
you, I warrant you. 
Doll. So you do, hostess. 
Hostess . Do I ? yea, in very truth, do I, an ’twere an 
aspen leaf: 
King Henry IV., Part II. Act ii. Scene 4. 
Marcus. Oh ! had the monster seen those lily 
hands 
Tremble like aspen-leaves upon a lute, 
Titus Andronicus, Act ii. Scene 5. 
BOX. 
Maria . Get ye all three into the box-tree : 
Twelfth Night, Act ii. Scene 5. 
WILLOW. 
Benedict. Come, will you go with me? 
Claudio. Whither? 
Benedict. Even to the next willow, about your own 
business, count. 
