William Shakespeare

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

For murder though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ.

For murder though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ.

'A took my father grossly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
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'A took my father grossly, full of bread,
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven?

So full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.

So full of shapes is fancy
That it alone is high fantastical.

Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back
When gold and silver becks me to come on.

Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back
When gold and silver becks me to come on.