O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

O base Hungarian wight! wilt thou the spigot wield? -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. read more

Then let thy love be younger than thyself, Or thy affection cannot hold the bent. -Twelfth Night. Act ii. Sc. 4.

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words That ever blotted paper! -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words,— Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, read more

Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words,— Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,— Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. -King Henry V. Act iv. Sc. 3.

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as read more

And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings. -King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work. -King Henry IV. Part read more

If all the year were playing holidays, To sport would be as tedious as to work. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 2.

They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act read more

They have measured many a mile To tread a measure with you on this grass. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act v. Sc. 2.

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer read more

Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer, and rare Beaumont lie
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakespeare in your threefold, fourfold tomb.

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To read more

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,— One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act ii. Sc. 3.