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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, It read more
And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking on it with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see, quoth he, how the world wags. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It read more
The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iv. Sc. 1.
The pleasing punishment that women bear. -The Comedy of Errors. Act i. Sc. 1.
The pleasing punishment that women bear. -The Comedy of Errors. Act i. Sc. 1.
Who lined himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. read more
Who lined himself with hope, Eating the air on promise of supply. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act i. Sc. 2.
A very beadle to a humorous sigh. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
A very beadle to a humorous sigh. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iii. Sc. 1.
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act read more
Chaste as the icicle That 's curdied by the frost from purest snow And hangs on Dian's temple. -Coriolanus. Act v. Sc. 3.
How now, foolish rheum! -King John. Act iv. Sc. 1.
How now, foolish rheum! -King John. Act iv. Sc. 1.
'T is a cruelty To load a falling man. -King Henry VIII. Act v. Sc. 3.
'T is a cruelty To load a falling man. -King Henry VIII. Act v. Sc. 3.
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act read more
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air Cry out. -Twelfth Night. Act i. Sc. 5.
