They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;
They are the books, the arts, the academes,
That show, contain, and nourish all the world.
Love's Labour's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument.
Love's Labour's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
Priscian! a little scratched, 't will serve.
Love's Labour's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.
They have been at a great feast of languages, and stolen the scraps.
Love's Labour's Lost. Act v. Sc. 1.