The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare Part 59 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
MUSTARD.
(1) _Doll._
They say Poins has a good wit.
_Falstaff._
He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as Tewksbury Mustard; there is no more conceit in him than in a mallet.
_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (260).
(2) _t.i.tania._
Pease-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
_Bottom._
Your name, I beseech you, sir?
_Mustardseed._
Mustardseed.
_Bottom._
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well; that same cowardly giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire your more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 1 (165, 194).
(3) _Bottom._
Where's the Mounsieur Mustardseed?
_Mustardseed._
Ready.
_Bottom._
Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.
_Mustardseed._
What's your will?
_Bottom._
Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch.
_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (18).
(4) _Grumio._
What say you to a piece of beef and Mustard?
_Katharine._
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
_Grumio._
Ay, but the Mustard is too hot a little.
_Katharine._
Why then, the beef, and let the Mustard rest.
_Grumio._
Nay, then, I will not; you shall have the Mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
_Katharine._
Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
_Grumio._
Why then, the Mustard without the beef.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 3 (23).
(5) _Rosalind._
Where learned you that oath, fool?
_Touchstone._
Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught; now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the Mustard was good, yet was the knight not forsworn. . . . .
You are not forsworn; no more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away before he ever saw those cakes or that Mustard.
