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What, my dear Lady Disdain! are you yet living? Beatrice: Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick?
William Shakespeare
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William Shakespeare
Age: 51 †
Born: 1564
Born: April 26
Died: 1616
Died: April 23
Actor
Dramaturge
Playwright
Poet
Stage Actor
Writer
Stratford-upon-Avon
Warwickshire
Shakespeare
The Bard
The Bard of Avon
William Shakspere
Swan of Avon
Bard of Avon
Shakespere
Shakespear
Shakspeare
Shackspeare
William Shake‐ſpeare
Lady
Dear
Meet
Food
Beatrice
Possible
Benedick
Dies
Disdain
Living
Hath
Feed
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Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die!
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Love is merely a madness.
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The time is out of joint.
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I love a ballad in print o' life, for then we are sure they are true.
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I would that I were low laid in my grave. I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
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Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
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Lawn as white as driven snow Cyprus black as e'er was crow Gloves as sweet as damask roses.
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Though men can cover crimes with bold, stern looks, poor women's faces are their own faults' books.
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This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.
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An arrant traitor as any is in the universal world, or in France, or in England.
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A miracle. Here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee, but by this light I take thee for pity. Beatrice: I would not deny you, but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion, and partly to save your life, for I was told you were in a consumption. Benedick: Peace. I will stop your mouth.
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No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change.
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Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.
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