In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our read more

In those holy fields Over whose acres walked those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act i. Sc. 1.

A young man married is a man that 's marr'd. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.

A young man married is a man that 's marr'd. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act ii. Sc. 3.

The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. -The read more

The villany you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. -The Merchant of Venice. Act iii. Sc. 1.

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.

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. -King John. Act iii. read more

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man. -King John. Act iii. Sc. 4.

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.

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.

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis read more

Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too much of
that writer Ovid and that writer Metamorphosis and talk too much
of Prosperpina and Jupiter. Why, here's our fellow Shakespeare
puts them all down. Aye, and Ben Jonson too. O that B.J. is a
pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace giving poets a pill, but
our fellow, Shakespeare, hath given him a purge that made him
beray his credit.

'T were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. -All 's Well read more

'T were all one That I should love a bright particular star, And think to wed it. -All 's Well that Ends Well. Act i. Sc. 1.