(14) _Laertes._

O Rose of May, Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 5 (157).

(15) _Duke._

For women are as Roses, whose fair flower Being once display'd doth fall that very hour.

_Twelfth Night_, act ii, sc. 4 (39).

(16) _Constance._

Of Nature's gifts, thou may'st with Lilies boast, And with the half-blown Rose.

_King John_, act iii, sc. 1 (153).

(17) _Queen._

But soft, but see, or rather do not see, My fair Rose wither.

_Richard II_, act v, sc. 1 (7).

(18) _Hotspur._

To put down Richard, that sweet lovely Rose, And plant this Thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke.

_1st Henry IV_, act i, sc. 3 (175).

(19) _Hostess._

Your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any Rose.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (27).

(20) _York._

Then will I raise aloft the milk-white Rose, With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed.

_2nd Henry VI_, act i, sc. 1 (254).

(21) _Don John._

I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a Rose in his grace.

_Much Ado About Nothing_, act i, sc. 3 (27).

(22) _Theseus._

But earthlier happy is the Rose distill'd Than that which withering on the virgin Thorn Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness.[244:1]

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act i, sc. 1 (76).

(23) _Lysander._

How now, my love! Why is your cheek so pale?

How chance the Roses there do fade so fast?

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act i, sc. 1 (128).

(24) _t.i.tania._

The seasons alter: h.o.a.ry-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson Rose.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 1 (107).

(25) _Thisbe._

Of colour like the red Rose on triumphant Brier.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1 (95).

(26) _Biron._

Why should I joy in any abortive mirth?

At Christmas I no more desire a Rose Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth, But like of each thing that in season grows.[245:1]

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act i, sc. 1 (105).

(27) _King_ (reads).

So sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not To those fresh morning drops upon the Rose.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 3 (26).