William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
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The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit,
The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell;
My mistress made it one upon my cheek:
She is so hot because the meat is cold;
The meat is cold because you come not home;
You come not home because you have no stomach;
You have no stomach, having broke your fast;
But we, that know what 'tis to fast and pray,
Are penitent for your default to-day.
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
When read more
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state.
My cake is dough. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 1.
My cake is dough. -The Taming of the Shrew. Act v. Sc. 1.
What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully
my mother looks, and my father read more
What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully
my mother looks, and my father died within's two hours.
Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out
his master's undoing.
Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out
his master's undoing.
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes, and being royal,
Took her own way.
Bravest at the last,
She levelled at our purposes, and being royal,
Took her own way.
And truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with. One doth not know
How read more
And truly, I'll devise some honest slanders
To stain my cousin with. One doth not know
How much an ill word may empoison liking.
This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. read more
This earth that bears thee dead Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. -King Henry IV. Part I. Act v. Sc. 4.
O villainy! Ho! let the door be lock'd.
Treachery! seek it out.
O villainy! Ho! let the door be lock'd.
Treachery! seek it out.
The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
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The learned pate
Ducks to the golden fool. All's obliquy;
There's nothing level in our cursed natures
But direct villainy.
