Fair ladies mask'd are roses in their bud:
Dismask'd, their damask sweet commixture shown,
Are angels veiling clouds, or roses blown.
Would it not grieve a woman to be overmaster'd with a piece of valiant dust? to make an
account of her life to a cloud of wayward marl?
Much Ado About Nothing. Act II. Sc. 1. L.
63.
She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if
her breath were as terrible as her terminations,
there were no living near her; she would infect
to the north star.
Much Ado About Nothing. Act II. Sc. 1. L.
255.
One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is
wise, yet I am well : another virtuous, yet I am
well; but till all graces be in one woman, one
woman shall not come in my grace.
Much Ado About Nothing. Act II. Sc. 3. L.
27.
A maid
That paragons description and wild fame;
One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,
And in the essential vesture of creation
Does tire the ingener.
Othello. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 61.
You are pictures out of doors,
Bells in your parlours, wild-cats in your kitchens,
Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,
Players in your housewifery, and housewives in
your beds.
Othello. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 110.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
Passionate Pilgrim. L. 339.
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{{Hoyt quote
| num = 5
| text = Think you a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
- * * * * *
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field,
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
And do you tell me of a woman's tongue,
That gives not half so great a blow to hear
As will a chestnut in a farmer's fire?
Taming of the Shrew. Act I. Sc. 2. L. 200.
Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
Why, no; for she hath broke the lute to me.
Taming of the Shrew. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 148.
Say that she rail, why then I'll tell her plain
She sings as sweetly as a nightingale;
Say that she frown; I'll say she looks as clear
As morning roses newly wash'd with dew;
Say she be mute and will not speak a word;
Then I'll commend her volubility,
And say she uttereth piercing eloquence.
Taming of the Shrew. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 171.
. ll
A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.
Taming of the Shrew. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 142.
Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions and our hearts
Should well agree with our external parts?
Taming of the Shrew. Act V. Sc. 2. L. 165.
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 64.
To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue.
Two Gentlemen of Verona. Act III. Sc. 1. L.
338.
If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or from the all that are took something good,
To make a perfect woman, she you kill'd
Would be unparallel'd.
' Winter's Tale. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 13.
Women will love her that she is a woman
More worth than any man; men, that she is
The rarest of all women.
Winter's Tale. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 110.
In the beginning, said a Persian poet—Allah
took a rose, a lily, a dove, a serpent, a little
honey, a Dead Sea apple, and a handful of clay.
When he looked at the amalgam—it was a
woman..
William Shaep. In the Portfolio, July, 1894.
P. 6.
Woman reduces us all to the common denominator.
Bernard Shaw—Great Catherine. Sc. 1.
The fickleness of the woman I love is only
equalled by the infernal constancy of the women
who love me.
Bernard Shaw—Philanderer. Act II.
Woman's dearest delight is to wound Man's
self-conceit, though Man's dearest delight is to
gratify hers.
Bernard Shaw—Unsocial Socialist. Ch. V.
You sometimes have to answer a woman according to her womanishness, just as you have
to answer a fool according to his folly.
Bernard Shaw—Unsocial Socialist. Ch.
XVIII.
A lovely lady garmented in light.
Shelley—The Witch of Atlas. St. 5.
One moral's plain, * * * without more fuss;
Man's social happiness all rests on us:
Through all the drama—whether damn'd or
not—
Love gilds the scene, and women guide the plot.
R. B. Sheridan—The Rivals. Epilogue.
She is her selfe of best things the collection.
Sir Philip Sidney—The Arcadia. Thirsts and
Dorus.
{{Hoyt quote
| num = | text = <poem>Lor', but women's rum cattle to deal with, the
first man found that to his cost,
