Shakesblogging™

Knowest thou such an one who doth vex thee with his verie looks, my Groundlynges? Your Will doth: Ben Jonson.

Your Will hath passed a long day a-toiling, sweet Groundlyngs, but as I lay me down to sleep, I do but muse on my love for thee.

Your Will doth finde that if a man speakes false, his storehouse of lies oft be filled from cellar to rooftop.

Here, sweete Goundlynges, thou mayest read mine sonnet 42, wherein I do mourn the pain of the scorned lover whose love and friend both ha...

When reason fails, mine Groundlynges, betimes a man might consider the "layinge of the handes."

Wait say thee, ladies? Does the blood of man run cold once he hath wed?

Groundynges, hastow ever seen thy love challeng'd by a friend rather than foe? O, how such treacherie doth wound the verie soul of ...