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againſt Anne anſwer art thou baniſhed Bard Bardolph beſt Caius Capulet cauſe couſin dead death deſire doſt doth elſe Enter Exeunt Exit Falſtaff father fir John firſt Ford friar Lawrence hath hear heart heaven Henry himſelf Hoff honeſt honour horſe hoſt houſe huſband jeſt Juliet juſt juſtice king knave lady laſt lord majeſty marry maſter Brook miſtreſs moſt muſt myſelf night Nurſe peace Percy pleaſe Poins pray preſent prince priſoners purpoſe raſcal reaſon reſt Romeo ſack ſaid ſame ſaw ſay SCENE ſee ſeeming ſend ſent ſerve ſet Shal ſhall Shallow ſhame ſhe ſhew ſhould ſince ſir ſleep Slen ſome ſon ſoon ſoul ſound ſpeak ſpirit ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſuch ſure ſwear ſweet ſword tell thee there’s theſe thoſe thou art thou haſt thou ſhalt thouſand Tybalt uſe whoſe wilt wiſe worſhip yourſelf
Page 46 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Page 85 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Page 101 - I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy prayers ; How ill white hairs become a fool, and jester!
Page 63 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : Night's candles are burnt out...
Page 85 - Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o
Page 27 - The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Page 17 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Page 10 - But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...
Page 85 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why ? Detraction will not suffer it : — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere 'scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.