By this reckoning he is more a shrew than she.
I have been right, Basil, haven’t I, to take my love out of poetry, and to find my wife in Shakespeare’s plays? Lips that Shakespeare taught to speak have whispered their secret in my ear. I have had the arms of Rosalind around me, and kissed Juliet on the mouth.
My mother spoke to me this morning, she told me that my father is beginning to think of suitors for me to marry.
The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law. – Romeo
A third…candidate for Shakespearean authorship was Christopher Marlowe. He was the right age (just two months older than Shakespeare), had the requisite talent, and would certainly have had ample leisure after 1593, assuming he wasn’t too dead to work.
Brief as the lightning in the collied night;
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and Earth,
And ere a man hath power to say “Behold!”
The jaws of darkness do devour it up.
So quick bright things come to confusion.
Reply not to me with a fool-born jest.
Gender mattered a whole lot less to Shakespeare than it seems to matter to us.
Ambition should be made from sterner stuff.
She vied so fast, protesting oath after oath,
that in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices. ‘Tis a world to see
How tame, when men and women are alone,
A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.