The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet

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D.C. Heath & Company, 1913 - Всего страниц: 235

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Стр. 20 - Romeo, hist ! — O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again ! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud ; Else would I tear the cave where echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine With repetition of my Romeo's name. Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name : How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears ! Jul.
Стр. 46 - Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Стр. 15 - Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head ; The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp ; her- eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Стр. 18 - It lightens." Sweet, good night ! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Стр. 110 - From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer's story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the...
Стр. 59 - Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Стр. 17 - Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo ! If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, 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.
Стр. 3 - Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners' legs, The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces, of the smallest spider's web, The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams...
Стр. 4 - Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two And sleeps again.
Стр. 3 - O ! then. I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate stone On the fore-finger of an alderman,* Drawn with a team of little atomies Over' men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...

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