William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare – 23 April 1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet, and the "Bard of Avon". His extant works, including collaborations, consist of approximately 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses, some of uncertain authorship. His plays have been translated into every major living language and are performed more often than...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPlaywright
Date of Birth23 April 1564
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feelings as to sight?
Be wise as thou art cruel, do not press My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain: Lest sorrow lend me words and words express, The manner of my pity-wanting pain...
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,...
Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.
In sweet music is such art: killing care and grief of heart fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine.
Thou art a slave, whom fortune's tender arm With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog.
O wretched state! O bosom black as death! O limed soul that, struggling to be free, art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart with strings of steel, be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
Yet, for I know thou art religious And hast a thing within thee called conscience, With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies Which I have seen thee careful to observe, Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know An idiot holds his bauble for a god And keeps the oath which by that god he swears, To that I'll urge him: therefore thou shalt vow By that same god, what god soe'er it be, That thou adorest and hast in reverence, To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up, Or else I will discover naught to thee.
Alas, sir, how fell you besides your five wits?" Malvolio: "Fool, there was never a man so notoriously abused. I am as well in my wits, fool, as thou art." Feste: "But as well? Then you are mad indeed, if you be no better in you wits than a fool.
O, had I but followed the arts!
Unthread the bold eye of rebellion,And welcome home again discarded faith.
Why so large a cost, having so short a lease, does thou upon your fading mansion spend?
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; When little fears grow great, great love grows there.