The Vale Shakespeare, 35. kötet

Első borító
Hacon & Ricketts, 1900
 

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xxiii. oldal - O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, Tickling a parson's nose as 'a...
xxxiii. oldal - I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond; And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
xxxi. oldal - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
xlix. oldal - Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare, It is enough I may but call her mine. Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume...
xxxii. oldal - What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself.
v. oldal - Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life ; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do. with their death, bury their parents
xxvii. oldal - Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this ; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers
liii. oldal - tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o...
xxxi. oldal - O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ? Deny thy father and refuse thy name : Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
5. oldal - Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads. I have more care to stay than will to go. Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul ? Let's talk.

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