William Shakespeare
By: Amelia Santigo
SHAKSPARE DATE OF BIRTH AND DEATH
Shakespeare was bon april 23, 1564
He die on april 23, 1616
EARLY LIFE
Shakespeare was born in 1564 on April 23rd. The same date that he died. He was baptized on the 26th of April. But was known until the age 18. He was educated at Stratford Grammar School. He had a pretty big family. The first time he saw a play was when he was 4. He didn't understand the words but loved the sound of them and loved the costumes.
He also loved watching his father make gloves. That was one of his jobs later on. His school was very strict. They had very harsh punishments so he had to study a lot.
If you were thinking all this sounds like Shakespeare was a perfect child, once just for fun, Shakespeare and his friends stole deer and rabbits from woods that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy. That's called poaching. For punishment, Will had to pay a big fine. To get even, he wrote a poem that made fun of Sir Thomas. He nailed this poem on the Lucy estate, and Sir Thomas was red hot mad. Many people laughed and felt sorry for Will.
Sonnet 18
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee
Sonnet 9
Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye,
That thou consum'st thy self in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind:
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it.
No love toward others in that bosom sits
That on himself such murd'rous shame commits.
Sonnet 24
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath steeled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective that is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
Shakspear
Insults
You abilities are too infant-like for doing much alone.
You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller.