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Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that read more
Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn: But my kisses bring again, bring again; Seals of love, but sealed in vain, sealed in vain. -Measure for Measure. Act iv. Sc. 1.
Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.
Thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges. -Twelfth Night. Act v. 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.
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness. -The Merchant of Venice. Act read more
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, With bated breath and whispering humbleness. -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
He hath indeed better bettered expectation. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
He hath indeed better bettered expectation. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act i. Sc. 1.
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.
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.
For when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. read more
For when did friendship take A breed for barren metal of his friend? -The Merchant of Venice. Act i. Sc. 3.
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign read more
How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, Within whose circuit is Elysium And all that poets feign of bliss and joy! -King Henry VI. Part III. Act i. Sc. 2.
