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O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
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
Upon
Wound
Eye
Justify
Use
Wounds
Art
Lays
Power
Sadness
Unkindness
Heart
Tongue
Slay
Call
Thine
Wrong
Sad
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Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
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The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
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We must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.
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Look, how this ring encompasseth thy finger, Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
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Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.
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Up and down, up and down I will lead them up and down I am feared in field in town Goblin, lead them up and down
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The mind of guilt is full of scorpions.
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I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age.
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The proverb is something musty.
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I'll speak in a monstrous little voice.
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There is nothing serious in Mortality
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And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.
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whats here a cup closed in my true loves hand poisin i see hath been his timeless end. oh churl drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after. i will kiss thy lips some poisin doth hang on them, to help me die with a restorative. thy lips are warm. yea noise then ill be brief oh happy dagger this is thy sheath. there rust and let me die.
William Shakespeare
