William Shakespeare ( 10 of 1881 )
(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it read more
(Pedro:) In faith, lady, you have a merry heart.
(Beatrice:) Yea, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the
windy side of care.
She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
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She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter:
I say she never did invent this letter;
This is a man's invention and his hand.
O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with passion would I shake the world,
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O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with passion would I shake the world,
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they read more
This was the noblest Roman of them all.
All the conspirators save only he
Did that they did in envy of great Caesar;
He, only in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act read more
O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day! -The Two Gentleman of Verona. Act i. Sc. 3.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of read more
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
Of him that hears it, never in the tongue
Of him that makes it.
You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your read more
You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry.
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain
When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain
O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
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O Lord! methought what pain it was to drown!
What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears!
What sights of ugly death within mine eyes!
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wracks;
A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea:
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept
(As 'twere in scorn of eyes) reflecting gems,
That wooed the slimy bottom of the deep
And mocked the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.
