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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.
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in read more
'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. -King Henry VIII. Act ii. Sc. 3.
And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You read more
And He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age! -As You Like It. Act ii. Sc. 3.
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man. -Much Ado about Nothing. Act iii. Sc. 3.
And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It read more
And the imperial votaress passed on, In maiden meditation, fancy-free. Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness. -A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act ii. Sc. 1.
A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. -Coriolanus. Act iv. Sc. 5.
A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, And harsh in sound to thine. -Coriolanus. Act iv. Sc. 5.
There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old. -King Henry read more
There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act ii. Sc. 4.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio. -Love's Labour 's Lost. Act i. Sc. 2.
You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a read more
You may as well say, that 's a valiant flea that dare eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion. -King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 7.
