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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 murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent read more
A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord, a vice of kings,
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole
And put it in his pocket--
The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and read more
The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.]
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.
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.
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.
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.
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
