I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

I would fain die a dry death. -The Tempest. Act i. Sc. 1.

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for read more

The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.

Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. read more

Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh! a fico for the phrase! -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act i. Sc. 3.

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou read more

Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by To teach thee safety. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Motley 's the only wear. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

Motley 's the only wear. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse! how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my read more

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse! how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? -King Henry IV. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Off with his head! -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Off with his head! -King Richard III. Act iii. Sc. 4.

Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting Quill
Commandeth Mirth or Passion, was but Will.

Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose enchanting Quill
Commandeth Mirth or Passion, was but Will.

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls read more

When great poets sing,
Into the night new constellations spring,
With music in the air that dulls the craft
Of rhetoric. So when Shakespeare sang or laughed
The world with long, sweet Alpine echoes thrilled
Voiceless to scholars' tongues no muse had filled
With melody divine.