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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve, Desire his death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, At random from the truth vainly express'd; For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.


William Shakespeare


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About William Shakespeare

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Did you know about William Shakespeare?

According to Shakespearean scholar James Shapiro in Julius Caesar "the various strands of politics character inwardness contemporary events even Shakespeare's own reflections on the act of writing began to infuse each other". In 1598 the cleric and author Francis Meres singled him out from a group of English writers as "the most excellent" in both comedy and tragedy. Many of his plays were publiWilliam Shakespeared in editions of varying quality and accuracy during his lifetime.

In the 20th century his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. He is often called England's national poet and the "Bard of Avon". At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway with whom he had three children: Susanna and twins Hamnet and Judith.

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