William Shakespeare

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that read more

The eagle suffers little birds to sing,
And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
He can at pleasure stint their melody:
Even so mayest thou the giddy men of Rome.

Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear. . . .

Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear. . . .

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy
The tongues of soothers! but a braver place
In read more

By God, I cannot flatter, I do defy
The tongues of soothers! but a braver place
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself.
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.

What think you, if he were conveyed to bed,
Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
read more

What think you, if he were conveyed to bed,
Wrapped in sweet clothes, rings put upon his fingers,
A most delicious banquet by his bed,
And brave attendants near him when he wakes,
Would not the beggar then forget himself?

Even at the turning o' the tide. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 3.

Even at the turning o' the tide. -King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 3.