i8o 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
Lean but upon a rush, 
The cicatrice and capable impressure 
Thy palm some moment keeps. 
III. V. 22. 
Cel. Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse¬ 
stealer, but for his verity in love, I do think him as concave 
as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten nut. 
III. iv. 24. 
Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, 
’Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. 
III. v. 74. 
That I shall think it a most plenteous crop 
To glean the broken ears after the man 
That the main harvest reaps. 
III. v. 101. 
Oli. Good morrow, fair ones; pray you, if you know, 
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands 
A sheepcote fenc’d about with olive-trees ? 
Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom : 
The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream 
Left on your right hand, brings you to the place. 
IV. iii. 76. 
Under an oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age 
And high top bald with dry antiquity. 
IV. iir. 105. 
Touch. Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a 
saying, “The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man 
knows himself to be a fool.” 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. 
V. i. 33. 
It was a lover and his lass, 
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 
That o’er the green cornfield did pass 
In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, 
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding : 
Sweet lovers love the spring. 
Between the acres of the rye, 
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 
These pretty country folks would lie, 
In spring time, etc. 
