| Closing lines | Play | Type |
|---|
| All the best men are ours; for 'tis ill hap, | If they hold when their ladies bid 'em clap. | |
| ...and, I am sure, as many as have good beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. | |
| And I will use the olive with my sword, | Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each | Prescribe to other as each other's leech. | Let our drums strike. | |
| And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, | If England to itself do rest but true. | |
| As you from crimes would pardon'd be, | Let your indulgence set me free. | |
| But that's all one, our play is done, | And we'll strive to please you every day. | |
| For never was a story of more woe | Than this of [title character] and her [other title character]. | |
| Give me your hands, if we be friends, | And Robin shall restore amends. | |
| GOWER: ...So, on your patience evermore attending, | New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending. | |
| HORTENSIO: Now go thy ways, thou hast tamed a curst shrow. | LUCENTIO: 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamèd so. | |
| I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, | To wash this blood off from my guilty hand: | March sadly after; grace my mournings here; | In weeping after this untimely bier. | |
| Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely | Each one demand an answer to his part | Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first | We were dissever'd: hastily lead away. | |
| Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the king; | But I will rule both her, the king and realm. | |
| Myself will straight aboard: and to the state | This heavy act with heavy heart relate. | |
| My tongue is weary; when my legs are too, I will bid you good night: and so kneel down before you; but, indeed, to pray for the queen. | |
| Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again: | That she may long live here, God say amen! | |
| Our army shall | In solemn show attend this funeral; | And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see | High order in this great solemnity. | |
| Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; | Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. | |
| Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway, | Meeting the cheque of such another day: | And since this business so fair is done, | Let us not leave till all our own be won. | |
| | Closing lines | Play | Type |
|---|
| Saint Alban's battle won by famous York | Shall be eternized in all age to come. | Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all: | And more such days as these to us befall! | |
| See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor, | By whom our heavy haps had their beginning: | Then, afterwards, to order well the state, | That like events may ne'er it ruinate. | |
| Set on there! Never was a war did cease, | Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace. | |
| So, bring us to our palace; where we'll show | What's yet behind, that's meet you all should know. | |
| So, thanks to all at once and to each one, | Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone. | |
| Sound drums and trumpets! farewell sour annoy! | For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy. | |
| Take up the bodies: such a sight as this | Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. | Go, bid the soldiers shoot. | |
| That done, our day of marriage shall be yours: | One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. | |
| That they lost France and made his England bleed: | Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, | In your fair minds let this acceptance take. | |
| The oldest hath borne most: we that are young | Shall never see so much, nor live so long. | |
| The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way: we this way. | |
| Think not on him till to-morrow: I'll devise thee brave punishments for him. Strike up, pipers. | |
| Though in this city he | Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, | Which to this hour bewail the injury, | Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. | |
| Till then I'll sweat and seek about for eases, | And at that time bequeathe you my diseases. | |
| To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word | For he tonight shall lie with Mistress Ford. | |
| We came into the world like brother and brother; | And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another. | |
| Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing | So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. | |
| Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie, | Most like a soldier, order'd honourably. | So call the field to rest; and let's away, | To part the glories of this happy day. | |
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