234 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
PERICLES, PRINCE OF TYRE. 
And these our ships, you happily may think, 
Are like the Trojan horse was stuff’d within 
With bloody veins, expecting overthrow, 
Are stored with corn to make your needy bread, 
And give them life whom hunger starved half dead. 
I. iv. 92. 
Cle. Fear not, my lord, but think 
Your grace, that fed my country with your corn, 
For which the people’s prayers still fall upon you, 
Must in your child be thought on. 
III. iii. 17. 
Mar. No, I will rob Tellus of her weed, 
To strew thy green with flowers : the yellows, blues, 
The purple violets, and marigolds, 
Shall as a carpet hang upon thy grave, 
While summer days do last. Ay me ! poor maid, 
Born in a tempest, when my mother died, 
This world to me is like a lasting storm, 
Whirring me from my friends. 
IV. i. 14. 
A thornier piece of ground. 
IV. vi. 153. 
Boult. For flesh and blood, sir, white and red, you shall 
see a rose ; and she were a rose, indeed, if she had but- 
IV. vi. 37. 
Bawd. She conjures : away with her! Would she had 
never come within my doors! Marry, hang you ! She’s 
born to undo us. Will you not go the way of women-kind ? 
Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays. 
IV. vi. 155. 
Gow. And with her neeld composes 
Nature’s own shape, of bud, bird, branch, or berry, 
That even her art sisters the natural roses ; 
Her inkle, silk, twin with the rubied cherry. 
V. i. 5. 
