William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
What work's, my countrymen, in hand? Where go you
With bats and clubs? The matter? Speak, I pray you.
The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now read more
The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now my tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Press not a falling man too far! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
Press not a falling man too far! -King Henry VIII. Act iii. Sc. 2.
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. read more
The world is grown so bad, That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 3.
Must I hold a candle to my shames? -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
Must I hold a candle to my shames? -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 6.
O father Abram! what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others! -The Merchant read more
O father Abram! what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others! -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and the bad together: read more
Prithee, friend,
Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear,
The good and the bad together: he's friends with Caesar,
In state of health, thou say'st, and thou say'st, free.
For the heavens, he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there
live we as merry as the day read more
For the heavens, he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there
live we as merry as the day is long.
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?
All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy read more
All swol'n with chafing, down Adonis sits,
Banning his boist'rous and unruly beast;
And now the happy season once more fits
That lovesick Love by pleading may be blest;
For lovers say the heart hath treble wrong
When it is barred the aidance of the tongue.
