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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in read more
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here we will sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
His cares are now all ended. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act v. Sc. 2.
His cares are now all ended. -King Henry IV. Part II. Act v. Sc. 2.
There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and read more
There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small beer. -King Henry VI. Part II. Act iv. Sc. 2.
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 1.
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 1.
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.
Didst thou never hear That things ill got had ever bad success? And happy always was it for that son read more
Didst thou never hear That things ill got had ever bad success? And happy always was it for that son Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? -King Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 2.
This sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprise. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.
This sickness doth infect The very life-blood of our enterprise. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Faith, thou hast some crotchets in thy head now. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act ii. Sc. 1.
Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. read more
Food for powder, food for powder; they 'll fill a pit as well as better. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act iv. Sc. 2.
