Your tittle-tattlers, and those who listen to slander, by my good
will should all be hanged--the former by their read more

Your tittle-tattlers, and those who listen to slander, by my good
will should all be hanged--the former by their tongues, the
latter by the ears.
[Lat., Homines qui gestant, quique auscultant crimina,
Si meo arbitratu liceat, omnes pendeant,
Gestores linguis, auditores auribus.]

And truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with. One doth not know
How read more

And truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with. One doth not know
How much an ill word may empoison liking.

If I can do it
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not read more

If I can do it
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

I hate the man who builds his name
On ruins of another's fame.

The worthiest people are the most injured by slander, as is the best fruit which the birds have been pecking read more

The worthiest people are the most injured by slander, as is the best fruit which the birds have been pecking at.

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of read more

No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens. and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.

If slander be a snake, it is a winged one--it flies as well as
creeps.

If slander be a snake, it is a winged one--it flies as well as
creeps.

God knows I loved my niece,
And she is dead, slandered to death by villains,
That dare read more

God knows I loved my niece,
And she is dead, slandered to death by villains,
That dare as well answer a man indeed
As I dare take a serpent by the tongue.
Boys, apes, braggarts, Jacks, milksops!

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
read more

That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect,
For slander's mark was ever yet the fair;
The ornament of beauty is suspect,
A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air.
So thou be good, slander doth but approve
Thy worth the greater, being wooed of time;
For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love,
And thou present'st a pure unstained prime.