The Plays of William Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes, Volume 8 |
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Page 14
She is too fair , too wife , too wifely fair , To merit bliss by making me despair ; She hath forfworn to love , and in that yow Do I live dead , that live to tell it now . Ben . Be rul'd by me , forget to think of her . Rom .
She is too fair , too wife , too wifely fair , To merit bliss by making me despair ; She hath forfworn to love , and in that yow Do I live dead , that live to tell it now . Ben . Be rul'd by me , forget to think of her . Rom .
Page 32
Now by the stock and honour of my kin , To ftrike him dead I hold it not a fin . Cap . Why , how now , kinfinan , wherefore storm you fo ? Tyb . Uncle , this is a Montague , our foe : A villain , that is hither come in spight , To fcorn ...
Now by the stock and honour of my kin , To ftrike him dead I hold it not a fin . Cap . Why , how now , kinfinan , wherefore storm you fo ? Tyb . Uncle , this is a Montague , our foe : A villain , that is hither come in spight , To fcorn ...
Page 49
Alas , poor Romeo , he is already dead ! ftabb'd with a white wench's black eye , run through the ear with a love - fong ; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow - boy's but - fhaft ; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt !
Alas , poor Romeo , he is already dead ! ftabb'd with a white wench's black eye , run through the ear with a love - fong ; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow - boy's but - fhaft ; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt !
Page 57
She'd be as fwift in motion as a ball ; My words would bandy her to my sweet love , And his to me ; But old folks , marry , feign as they were dead , Unwieldy , flow , heavy , and pale , as lead . Enter Nurfe , with Peter .
She'd be as fwift in motion as a ball ; My words would bandy her to my sweet love , And his to me ; But old folks , marry , feign as they were dead , Unwieldy , flow , heavy , and pale , as lead . Enter Nurfe , with Peter .
Page 64
O fweet Juliet , Thy beauty hath made me effeminate , And in my temper softned valour's steel . Enter Benvolio . Ben . O Romeo , Romeo , brave Mercutio's dead : That gallant spirit hath afpir'd the clouds ...
O fweet Juliet , Thy beauty hath made me effeminate , And in my temper softned valour's steel . Enter Benvolio . Ben . O Romeo , Romeo , brave Mercutio's dead : That gallant spirit hath afpir'd the clouds ...
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