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Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that read more
Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that loured upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments, Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamped, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them,— Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun. -King Richard III. Act i. Sc. 1.
As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all read more
As sweet and musical As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair; And when Love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act iv. Sc. 3.
Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
Truth will come to sight; murder cannot be hid long. -The Merchant of Venice. Act ii. Sc. 2.
I am never merry when I hear sweet music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
I am never merry when I hear sweet music. -The Merchant of Venice. Act. v. Sc. 1.
And thereby hangs a tale. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iv. Sc. 1.
And thereby hangs a tale. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act iv. Sc. 1.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
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.
As good luck would have it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
As good luck would have it. -The Merry Wives of Windsor. Act iii. Sc. 5.
The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
The why is plain as way to parish church. -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 7.
