--To live
On means not yours--be brave in silks and laces,
Gallant in steeds; splendid in banquets; all
Not yours. Given, uninherited, unpaid for;
This is to be a trickster; and to filch
Men's art and labour, which to them is wealth,
Life, daily bread;--quitting all scores with "friend,
You're troublesome!" Why this, forgive me,
Is what, when done with a less dainty grace,
Plain folks call "Theft."
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He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's read more
Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surges resolves
The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n
From gen'ral excrement.
Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis read more
Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis petty larceny: not such his deed
Who robs us of our fame, our best possession.
Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves professed, that you work not
In holier read more
Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves professed, that you work not
In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
In limited professions.
'Tis bad enough in man or woman
To steal a goose from off a common;
But surely read more
'Tis bad enough in man or woman
To steal a goose from off a common;
But surely he's without excuse
Who steals a common from the goose.
For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
read more
For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
To call passengers who go right on their ways:
Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: and as for him that
wanteth understanding, she saith to him,
Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.
Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all,
For thou hast stolen my will, and made it read more
Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all,
For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine.
Kill a man's family, and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
Kill a man's family, and he may brook it,
But keep your hands out of his breeches' pocket.
