Dancing Young Men From High Windows

You Are Invited to a Lifestyle of Friendship

Much Ado About Nothing


Your niece regards me with an eye of favor.


That eye my daughter leant her. ‘Tis most true.


And I do with an eye of love requite her.



The Merry Wives of Windsor


Now, the hot-blooded gods assist me! Remember, Jove, thou wast a bull for thy Europa: love set on thy horns. O powerful love, that in some respects makes a beast a man; in some other, a man a beast. You were also, Jupiter, a swan for the love of Leda. O omnipotent love, how near the god drew to the complexion of a goose! A fault done first in the form of a beast — O Jove, a beastly fault! — and then another fault in the semblance of a fowl.


Henry IV, Pt. II


Coming to look on you, thinking you dead

And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,

I spake unto this crown as having sense,

And thus upbraided it: “The care on thee depending

Hath fed upon the body of my father.

Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold.

Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,

Preserving life in medicine potable,

But thou, most fine, most honored, most renowned,

Hast eat thy bearer up.”


Henry IV Pt. I


He was but as the cukoo is in June,

Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes

As, sick and blunted with community,

Afford no extraordinary gaze,

Such as is bent on sun-like majesty

When it shines seldom in admiring eyes,

But rather drows’d and hung their eyelids down,

Slept in his face, and render’d such aspect

As cloudy men use to their adverseries,

Being with his presence glutted, gorg’d, and full.

And in that very line, Harry, standest thou,

For thou hast lost thy princely privilege

WIth vile participation. Not an eye

But is a-weary of thy common sight,

Save mine, which hath desir’d to see thee more,

Which now doth that I would not have it do,

Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.


The Merchant of Venice


…Beshrew your eyes!

They have o’erlooked me and divided me;

One half of me is yours, the other half yours–

Mine own I would say; but if mine then yours.

And so all yours!


King John


…in her eye I find

A wonder or a wondrous miracle,

The shadow of myself formed in her eye,

Which, being but the shadow of the son,

Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow.

I do protest I never loved myself

Till now infixed I beheld myself,

Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.


A Midsummer Night’s Dream


The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report what my dream was.