Maxioms by William Shakespeare
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.
Give me my robe, put on my crown, I have
Immortal longings in me.
Give me my robe, put on my crown, I have
Immortal longings in me.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
Unbidden guests Are often welcomest when they are gone.
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set read more
Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on,—how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour; what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'T is insensible, then? yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I 'll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon. And so ends my catechism. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 1.
