William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read,
And read more
Let but the commons hear this testament,
Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read,
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory,
And dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Upon their issue.
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the
creature run from the read more
Thou hast seen a farmer's dog bark at a beggar? . . . And the
creature run from the cur. There thou mightst behold the great
image of authority--a dog's obeyed in office.
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious read more
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;
And this our life, exempt from human haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
read more
In honest plainness thou hast heard me say
My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness,
Being full of supper and distemp'ring draughts,
Upon malicious knavery does thou come
To start my quiet.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.
If it be true that good wine needs no bush, 'tis true that a good
play needs no epilogue.
Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; read more
Bleed, bleed, poor Country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee; wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeered!
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
read more
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
The best I had, a princess wrought it me--
And I did never ask it you again;
And with my hand at midnight held your head,
And like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy time,
Saying, 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
