2 14 
SHAKESPEARE'S GARDEN 
All cause unborn, could never be the motive 
Of our so frank donation. 
III. i. 114. 
Thy stout heart, 
Now humble as the ripest mulberry 
That will not hold the handling. 
III. ii. 78. 
Cor. Scratches with briers, 
Scars to move laughter only. 
III. iii. 52. 
Let me twine 
Mine arms about that body, where against 
My grained ash an hundred times hath broke, 
And scarr’d the moon with splinters : here I clip 
The anvil of my sword. 
IV. v. 112. 
You that stood so much 
Upon the voice of occupation and 
The breath of garlic-eaters. 
IV. vi. 96. 
Men. For one poor grain or two ! 
I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, 
And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: 
You are the musty chaff, and you are smelt 
Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. 
V. i. 28. 
2.nd, Sen. The worthy fellow is our general: he is the rock, 
the oak not to be wind-shaken. 
V. ii. 116. 
Then let the mutinous winds 
Strike the proud cedars ’gainst the fiery sun : 
Murdering impossibility, to make 
What cannot be, slight work. 
V. iii. 59. 
And bear the palm for having bravely shed 
Thy wife and children’s blood. 
V. iii. 117. 
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’ the air, 
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt 
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak ? 
V. iii. 151. 
