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A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
read more
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other read more
O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.
No Indian prince has to his palace
More followers than a thief to the gallows.
Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
To sell read more
Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
To sell and mart your offices for gold
To undeservers.
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.
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.
To keep my hands from picking and stealing.
To keep my hands from picking and stealing.
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.
