William Shakespeare

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your read more

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. read more

Down on your knees, And thank Heaven, fasting, for a good man's love. -As You Like It. Act iii. Sc. 5.

Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
read more

Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just,
And he but naked, though locked up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of read more

If I were as tedious as a king, I could find it in my heart to bestow it all of your worship. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 5.

And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. read more

And give to dust that is a little gilt More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. -Troilus and Cressida. Act iii. Sc. 3.