William Shakespeare

Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.

Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.

Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.

Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue,
And with thy weapon nothing dar'st perform.

I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
Where read more

I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood so cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

But, O thou tyrant,
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes read more

But, O thou tyrant,
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir. Therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair.

Confusion's cure lives not
In these confusions.

Confusion's cure lives not
In these confusions.