William Shakespeare

'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful read more

'T is strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. -King John. Act v. Sc. 7.

He will give the devil his due. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

He will give the devil his due. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

Masters, spread yourselves. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 2.

I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will--
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I take to-day a wife, and my election
Is led on in the conduct of my will--
My will enkindled my by mine and ears
Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores
Of will and judgment.

With foreheads villanous low. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.

With foreheads villanous low. -The Tempest. Act iv. Sc. 1.