tale (n.)
- account
- aggregate
- all
- amount
- anecdote
- calumny
- canard
- cast
- chitchat
- chronicle
- count
- defamation
- depreciation
- difference
- disparagement
- entirety
- epic
- epos
- exaggeration
- fabrication
- falsehood
- falsification
- falsity
- farrago
- fib
- fiction
- flam
- flimflam
- gossip
- gossiping
- gossipmongering
- half-truth
- history
- libel
- lie
- mendacity
- misrepresentation
- myth
- narration
- narrative
- number
- prevarication
- product
- quantity
- recital
- reckoning
- record
- report
- rumor
- saga
- scandal
- score
- scuttlebutt
- slander
- story
- sum
- summation
- talk
- tally
- taradiddle
- tattle
- tell
- tittle-tattle
- total
- totality
- tote
- untruth
- whole
- yam
- yarn
tale (v.)
tale (adj.)
Mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down.
An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told.
I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 't was said to me.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
And every shepherd tells his tale
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Hope tells a flattering tale,
Delusive, vain, and hollow.
Ah! let not hope prevail,
Lest disappointment follow.
Hope tells a flattering tale,
Delusive, vain, and hollow.
Ah! let not hope prevail,
Lest disappointment follow.
O Reader! Had you in your mind
Such stores as silent thought can bring,
O gentle Reader! you would find
A tale in everything.
To know, to esteem, to love, and then to part,
Makes up life's tale to many a feeling heart!
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Meet me by moonlight alone,
And then I will tell you a tale
Must be told by the moonlight alone,
In the grove at the end of the vale!
Do not believe what I tell you here any more than if it were some tale of a tub.
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
'T is an old tale and often told;
But did my fate and wish agree,
Ne'er had been read, in story old,
Of maiden true betray'd for gold,
That loved, or was avenged, like me.
For aught that I could ever read,
Could ever hear by tale or history,
The course of true love never did run smooth.
I will tell you now
What never yet was heard in tale or song,
From old or modern bard, in hall or bower.
He left the name at which the world grew pale,
To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors,
My very noble and approv'd good masters,
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending
Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,
And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace:
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field,
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle,
And therefore little shall I grace my cause
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of my whole course of love.
A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
For seldom shall she hear a tale
So sad, so tender, and so true.
Who so shall telle a tale after a man,
He moste reherse, as neighe as ever he can,
Everich word, if it be in his charge,
All speke he never so rudely and so large;
Or elles he moste tellen his tale untrewe,
Or feinen thinges, or finden wordes newe.
Misses! the tale that I relate
This lesson seems to carry,—
Choose not alone a proper mate,
But proper time to marry.
We spend our years as a tale that is told.
Those evening bells! those evening bells!
How many a tale their music tells
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
When last I heard their soothing chime!
And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe,
And then from hour to hour we rot and rot;
And thereby hangs a tale.
And thereby hangs a tale.
And thereby hangs a tale.
'T is an old tale and often told;
But did my fate and wish agree,
Ne'er had been read, in story old,
Of maiden true betray'd for gold,
That loved, or was avenged, like me.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Meet me by moonlight alone,
And then I will tell you a tale
Must be told by the moonlight alone,
In the grove at the end of the vale!
So mourn'd the dame of Ephesus her love,
And thus the soldier arm'd with resolution
Told his soft tale, and was a thriving wooer.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
And what so tedious as a twice-told tale.
I am thy father's spirit,
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part
And each particular hair to stand an end,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:
But this eternal blazon must not be
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!
Lest men suspect your tale untrue,
Keep probability in view.
He cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney-corner.
Who so shall telle a tale after a man,
He moste reherse, as neighe as ever he can,
Everich word, if it be in his charge,
All speke he never so rudely and so large;
Or elles he moste tellen his tale untrewe,
Or feinen thinges, or finden wordes newe.
