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.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
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!
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
Now, good digestion wait on appetite, and health on both!
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher about your brows--
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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?'
We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
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We have scorched the snake, not killed it.
She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
If you can look into the seeds of time
And say which grain will grow and which will not,
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If you can look into the seeds of time
And say which grain will grow and which will not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
Your favors nor your hate.
Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good hay,
sweet hay, hath no fellow.
Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay. Good hay,
sweet hay, hath no fellow.
