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Foul fiend of France and hag of all despite, Encompassed with thy lustful paramours, Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age And twit with cowardice a man half dead?
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
Dead
Fiend
Becomes
Taunting
Age
Valiant
Half
Foul
Twit
Men
Cowardice
Taunt
France
Twits
Despite
Encompassed
Thee
Lustful
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I'll look to like if looking, liking move.
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Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, more than quick words, do move a woman's mind.
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Discomfort guides my tongue And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
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O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love... 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet.
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My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, Two traded pilots 'twixt the dangerous shores Of will and judgment.
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I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.
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Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.
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Let me say amen betimes lest the devil cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.
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How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!
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I am ill at these numbers.
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Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God, My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee.
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Pain pays the income of each precious thing.
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For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
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Come my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers they hold up Adam's profession.
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Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
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Can one desire too much of a good thing?
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