Nobody knows Shakespeare's actual birthday. Scholars think he was born on April 23, 1564, three days before his baptism was recorded at a church in Stratford, England. Strangely enough, his death in 1616 also occurred on April 23.
As far as we know, he never went beyond grammar school, probably finishing in his early to mid-teens.
Shakespeare and his wife, Anne Hathaway, had three children: Susanna and twins Judith and Hamnet. The twins were named after neighbors who named their son William. Although Hamnet died at age 11, his name lives on: It was sometimes written as Hamlet, the title of one of his father's greatest characters and plays. Shakespeare's last descendant, a granddaughter, died in 1670.
"Shakespeare" was spelled 80 different ways, including "Shaxpere" and "Shaxberd."
See Shakespeare's signature on his will
Shakespeare is the most translated author ever. His work is read in at least 80 languages, including Chinese, Italian, Armenian, Bengali, Tagalog, Uzbek and Krio (spoken by freed slaves in Sierra Leone).
7. Shakespeare is thought to have written 39 plays. About half were printed in small booklets before his death. But some of his most famous works, including Macbeth and Julius Caesar, were not printed in his lifetime. When the book was published in 1623, seven years after Shakespeare's death, it sold for 1 British pound (several hundred dollars in today's money). One sold in 2006 for nearly $5 million.
View a First Folio
While most people regularly use about 2,000 words, Shakespeare used more than 25,000 in his writing.
If you do a Google search on "Shakespeare," you get more than 125 million results.
Originally appeared in "10 Ways To Be Or Not To Be A Shakespeare Expert" in the Washington Post by Ellen Edwards, with Georgianna Ziegler, Head of Reference at Folger Shakespeare Library.
Two households, both alike in dignity (pride)
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient (old) grudge (dislike) break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death marked love
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which but their children’s end, naught could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which, if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend