| H5 V.ii.51 | [Burgundy to King Henry and the French King, of the fields] nothing teems / But hateful docks, rough thistles |
| Mac IV.iii.176.1 | [Ross to Malcolm, of the sorrows in Scotland] Each minute teems a new one |
| Tim IV.iii.180 | [Timon alone, of the earth] Whose womb unmeasurable and infinite breast / Teems and feeds all |