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Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania

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
Mets
Proud
Midsummer
Moonlight
Ill

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Falsehood falsehood cures
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... And death unloads thee.
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Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain
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Give me a staff of honor for mine age, But not a sceptre to control the world.
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The language I have learnt these forty years, My native English, now I must forgo And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
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Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
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This is his uncle's teaching, this Worcester, Malevolent to you In all aspects, Which makes him prune himself and bristle up The crest of youth against your dignity.
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Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
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But we have reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal stings, our unbitted lusts whereof I take this that you call love to bea sect or scion.... It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will.
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