| Ham I.ii.141 | [Hamlet alone, of King Hamlet] so loving to my mother / That he might not beteem the winds of heaven / Visit her face too roughly [Q2; F beteene] |
| MND I.i.131 | [Hermia to Lysander, in answer to 'Why is your cheek so pale?'] Belike for want of rain, which I could well / Beteem them from the tempest of my eyes |