William Michael Rossetti William Shakespeare.

The complete works of Shakespeare: With a critical biography online

. (page 184 of 224)
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Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why then, brawling love! O loving hate I
anything, of nothing first created I
O heavy lightness I serious vanity I
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick

Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is I—
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thoa not laugh ?

Ben, No, cos, I rather weep.

Bom. Good heart at what?

Ben. At thy eood hearth oppression.

Bom. Why, such is love s transgression.—
Grieis of mine own lie heavy in my breast ;
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it press'd
With more of thine: this love, that thou hast

Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers* eyes;
Being vex'd. a sea nourished with loving tears:
What is it else ? a madneta most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my co*. [Ocinff.

Ben. Soft, I will go along;

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Bom, Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here ;
This b not Komeo, he*s some other where.

Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that yoa love.

Bom, What, shall 1 groan, and tell thee?

Ben. Qroan? why, no;

Bat sadly ten me, wiio.

Bom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will :
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill !~
In sadness, cousin, 1 do love a woman.

Ben. I aim*dV> near, when I supposed yoa

Bom. A right good marksman!~And she*s fair
I love.

Ben. A right Cdr mark, fair cos, is soonest hit

Bom. Well, in that hit yoa miss: shell not be
With Cupid*s arrow, she hath Dhn^ wit;
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm*d.
From love^ weak childish bow she lives unharm^
She will not say the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide the eneoonter of assailing eyes.
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :
O, she b rich in beauty I only poor
That, when she dies, with b«MUity dies her store.

Bm. Then she hath sworn that she will still
live chaste?

Bom, She hath, and in that sparing makes huge



For beanty, stanr^ with her severity.
Cut! beai^ off from all posterity.

She is too &ir, too wise, wisely too fiUr,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
She hath forsworn to love ; and, in that vow.
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.

Bom. teach me how I should forget to think

Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes ;
Examine other beauties.

Bom. "Tis the way

To call hers exquisite. In question more :
These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies* brows.
Being black, put us in mind they hidn the fair ;
He tiiat is strucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of bis eyesight lost:
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell : thoa canst not teach me to forget

B^ 111 pay that doctrine, or else die in debt


SCENE II.— J Street.
Enter Capulbt, Pabis, and Servant

Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike ; and tis not hard, I think
For men so old as we to keep the peace.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are yoa both ;
And pity *tia voa liv*d at odds so long.
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit ?

Cap. But saying o*er what I have said before :
My child is yet a stranger in the world,
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years ;
Let two more summers wither in their pride,
Ere we may think her rine to be a bride.

Par. Younger than sne are happy mothen

Cop. And too soon marr*d are those so early
Earth hath swallowed all my hopes hot she,
She is the hopeful lady of my earth :
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
My will to her consent is but a part ;
An she agree, within her scope of choice
Lies mv consent and fair acoordine voice
This night I hold an old aocostomid feast.
Whereto I have invited many a guest.
Such as I love ; and yoa, among the store
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house, look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light*
Such comfort, as do lusty voung men feel
When well appareird April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even saoh delight
Among t^h female buds shall yoa this night
Inherit at my bouse; hear all, all see,
And like her most, whose merit most shall be :
Which on more view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning nonb
Come, go with me ;~Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona ; find those persons oat.
Whose names are written tiere, [y»i«s a jpeg^.]

and to them say.
My hoose and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[J&oeunt Capulbt and Paris.

Serv, Find them out. whose names are written
here? It is written^tbat the shoemaker should
meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last,
the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his
nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose
names are writ, and can never find what names the
writing person hath here writ I most to the
leamea>-Ingood timg.g.^.^^^ by GoOglC


EnUr Bstrrono ana KoMEO, SCENE III.— .i JZooai m Gapnlet^ iZbuK.

Ben. Tat, man I one fire burns oat another^

One pain is lessened hj another^ anguish ;
Tom giddj, and be holp bj backward taming ;

One desperate grief cares with another*8
Pake thoa some new infection to the eje,
And the rank poison of the old will die.

Rom, Year plaintain-Ieaf is excellent for that

Ben, For what, I pray thee?

Bom, For joor broken shin.

Ben, Whj, Romeo, art thoa mad ?

80m. Not mad, bat bound more than a madman
Shut op in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented, and — GoodVen, good

Sen, God gi* good e^en. — I praji sir, can 70a

Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Sen. Perhaps yoa haye learaVl it without
But I pray, can yoo read anything you see ?

Bom. Ay, if I know the letters and the

Sen. Te say honestly: Rest yoa merry I

Bom. Stay, fellow : 1 can read. [Beade,

Siffnor Martiuo, and his wife and daughters;
County Anselmoj and his beatUeotu sisters; the lady
widow of Yitruyio ; ^gnor Placentio. anakis lovely
nieces; Mercutio, oiui his brother Valentine; Mine
uncle Capulet, ?us wife and dauahters; My fair
niece Rosaline; Livia; Signor Valentio, and his
cousin Tybalt; Locio, and the lively Ueleoa.
A &ir assembly ; jaives back the note.] Whither
should they oomer

Sen. Up.

Bom, Whither to sapper?

Sen. Tooorhoose.

Bom. Whose house?

Sen. My master^s.

Bom, Indeed, I shoold haye ask^d you that

Sen, Now 111 tell yoo without asking: My
master is the great rich Capulet ; and if yoo be
not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and
crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry. [Ekit.

Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st ;
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
G^ thither, and, with unattainted eye.
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think th^ swan a crow.

Bom, When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehood, then tarn tears to
And these, — who, often drown*d, ooald neyer
die, —

Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all -seeing sun
Ne^er saw her match, since first the world begun.

Ben, Tut! yoa saw her fair, none else being

Herself pois*d with herself in either eye :
But in that crystal scales, let there be weighed
Your lady's loye against some other maid
That I will show you^ shining at this feast.
And she shall scant show well, that now shows
Bom, 111 go along, no such right to be shown,
It to r^oioe in splendoor of mine own. rjgc^mit

Unter Lady Capulbt and Nubsb.

La. Caj^. Nurse, where's my daughter? oall bar

forth to me.
Nurse. Now by my maiden-head,— at twelye
year old, —
I bade her come.— What, Umb ! what, lady-bird !—
God forbid!— Where's this girl ?— what, Juliet!

Enter Juliet.

JuL How now, who calls?

Nurse, Your mother.

Jtd. Madam, I am here.

What is your will?

IxL Cap, This is the matter:— Norse, giye
leave awhile.
We must tolk in secret— Nurse, come back again;
I have remember'd me, thou shalt bear our counsel.
Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse, 'Faith, I can tell her age onto an hoar.

La, Cap. She's not fourteen.

Nwrse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth.

And yet to my teen be it spoken, I have but four —
She is not fourteen.— Uow long u it now
To Lammastide?

La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days.

-^ur«c Even or odd, of all days in the year.
Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen.
Susan and she,— God rest all Christian souls!—
Were of an age,— Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me : But, as I said.
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be foorteen;
That shall she, marry ; I remember it well.
Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean d,— I never shall forget it,—
Of all the days of the year, upon that day :
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug.
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall.
My lord and you were then at Mantua :"
Nay, I do bear a brain :— but, as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool !
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug.
Shake, quoth the dove-house: twas no need, I

To bid me trudge.

And smce that time it is eleven years:
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood.
She could have run and waddled all about
For even the day before, she broke her brow :
And then my husband— God be with his sool!
*A was a merry man ! — took up the child :
Yea, quoth he. dost thou fall upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward, when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule? and, by my holy dam.
The pretty wretch left crying, and said— Ay t
To see now, how a jest shall come about!
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jole?

quoth he :
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said— Ay.

La. Cap, Enough of this ; I pray thee, hold thy

Nune. Yes, madam ; yet I caxmot ohoose bot
To think it should leave crying, and say — Ay:
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
A bump as big as a young cockrers stone ;
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.
Yea, quoth my husband, fall'st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com'sttoage;
WUt thoa not, Jule? it stinted, %Qd^«i(K-4x*^
Digitized by VjOOVJ LC

JyiL And stint thoa too, I pnj thee, nurse, say I.

Nune, Pence, I have done. God mark thee to
his grace 1
Thou wast the pretiie«t babe that e'er J nxaai'd :
An I might hve to see thee married once,
I have my wish.

La, Cap. Marry, that marry is the very tneme
I came to talk of: - Tell me, daaghter J uliet.
How stands your disposition to be married?

JvL It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurte. An honour 1 were not 1 thine only nurse,
I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

La, Cap. Well, think of marriage now ; younger
than you,
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already motliers: by my count,
I was a mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief;—
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man,
As all the world — Why, he's a man of wax.

La, Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a

Kurse. Nay, he's a flower ; in faith, a very flower.

Jjo. Cap. what say you? can you love the
gentleman ?
This night vou shall behold him at our feast:
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face.
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every several lineament,
And see how one another lends content;
And what ob>cur*d in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin of his eves.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover :
The fish lives in the sea ; and *ti9 much pride,
For fair without the fair within to hide :
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all tliat he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no less.

Nunc No less? nay, bigger; women grow by

La, Cap. Soeak briefly, can yon like of Paris'

JuL 111 look to like, if looking liking move :
But no more deep will I endart mine eye.
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant.

Serv, Madam, the guests are come, supper
served up, you called, my young lady asked fur,
the nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in
extremity. I must hence to wtut ; 1 beseech you,
follow straight.
Xo. CTiop. We follow thee.— Juliet, the county

jSTune, Go, giil, seek happy nights to happy
days. [ExeatU.

SCENE IV.-^ Street



But, let them measure us by what they will.
Well measure them a measure, and be gone.

Horn, Give me a torch,— I am not for this
Being but heavy I will bear the light

Mer. Nay,gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

Bom. Not I, believe me : yon have dancing shoes.
With nimble soles : I have a soul of lead.
So stakes me to the ground 1 cannot move.

Her. You are a lover ; borrow Cupid's wings.
And soar with them above a common bound.

JRom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft,
To soar with his light feathers ; and to bound —
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love:
Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Bom. Is love a tender thing ? it is too rougo.
Too rude, too boist'rous ; and it pricks like thorn.

Ifisr. If love be rough with you, be rough with
Prick love for pricking, and jou beat love down. —
Give me a case to put my visage in :

[Putting on a mask.
A visor for a visor I— what care I,
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.

Ben, Come, knock, and enter ; and no sooner in,
But every man betake him to his legs.

Bom. A torch for me: let wantons, lightof heart.
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, -
111 be a candle-holder, and look on, —
The game was ne er so fair, and I am done.

Ifer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable*8 own
If thoa art dun, well draw thee from the mire
Of this, iir reverence, love, wherein thou stick^t
Up to the ears. — Come, we bum daylight, ho.

Bom, Nay, that's not so.

Mer, 1 mean, sir. in delav

We waste our lights in vain, lights, lights, by day.
Take our good meaning ; for our judgment sits
Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.

Bom, And we mean well in going to this mask
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer, Why, may one ask ?

Bom, I dreamt a dream to-night.

Mer. And 80 did I.

Bom, Well, what was yours?

Mer, That dreamers often lie

Bom, In bed, asleep, while they do dream things

Mer, O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with
She is the fairies* midwife ; and she oomef
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-fiuger of an alderman.
Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as thev lie asleep:
Her waggon-»pokes mode of long spinners' l«g8 1
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ;

Digitized by



On oonniers' knees, thmt dream on cooitWet

0<er lawjerg* fingers, who straight dream on fees:
O'er ladiea* lips, who straight on kisses dream ;
Which ot't the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometimes she gallops o*er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams be of smelling oat a suit :
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep.
Then dreams he of another benefice :
Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck.
And then dreams he of catting foreign throats.
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths, five fathom doep : and then anon
Drams in his ear; at which be starts, and wakes ;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That pUts the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes the elf-locks in foul slattish hairs,
Which, once ontangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs.
That presses them, and leanis them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she —

Bom, Peace, peace, Mercatio, peace,

Thoa talk^t of nothing.

Afar, Trae, 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 woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the north.
And, bein^ anger'd, pnfis away from thence.
Turning his face to tne dew-dropping south.

Ben, This wind, you talk of, blows as from onr-
Sapper is done, and we shall come too late.

Bom. I fear, too early; for m;|r mind misgives
Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars.
Shall bitter l^r begin his fearful dat;e
With this night's revels ; and expire the term
Of a despised life, dus'd in my breast.
By some vile forfeit of untimely death :
Bat He, that hath the steerage of my coarse.
Direct my sail I— On, lusty gentlemen.

I^ Strike, drum. [ExeunL

SCENE y.'^ HaUin Capulet's Hauae,
MusicUma vxtUing, Enter Servants.

1 Sarv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to
cake away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a
trencher I

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one
or two men^ hands, and they unwashed too, tis a
foul thing.

1 Sarv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the
court-cupboard, look to the plate: — good thou,
save me a piece of marchpane ; and, as thou lovest
me. let the porter let in Susan Qrindstone and
NelL— Antony I and PotpanI

2 Sen, Ay, boy: ready.

1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked
for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

2 Serv, We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, bovs; be brisk a while, and the longer
liver take alL [ They retire bdtuuL

EnUr CAFVtSTf <£e., wUh the Quests, and the

Cop. Welcome, gentlemen 1 ladies, that hare
their toes


(Jnplagued with ooms,wiIl have a boat with yoa:-

Ah ha. my mistresses ! which of you ail

W ill now deny to dance? she that niakes dainty, she

III swear, hath corns; Am I come near ye now?

Welcome, gentlemen ! 1 have seen the day,

That 1 have worn a visor; and could tell

A whispering tale in a fan* lad^^ ear.

Such as would please; tis gone, 'tis gone, ^a gone:

You are welcome, gentlemen ! — Come, musicians,

A hall ! a hall I give room, and foot it girls.

[Music playa and they donee.
More light, ye knaves ; and turn the tables np,
A nd quench the fire, the room is grown too hoL —
Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes weU.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capnlet;
For you and I are pa»t our dancing days:
How long ist now, since last yourself and 1
Were ma mask?
2 Cap, By*r Udj, thirty years.

1 Cap. What, man ! *tis not so much, \ia not m

Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come pentecost as quickly as it will.
Some nve-and-twenty years ; and then we mask'd.

2 Ccp. *Tis more, tis more: his son is elder, sir:
His sou is thirty.

1 Cap. WiU you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago.

Horn, What lady ^ that, which doth enrich the hand
Of vender knight?

oerv. I know not, sir.

Bam, O, she doth teach the torches to bum bright I
Her beauty har.^ upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear I
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellow shows.
The measure done, III watch her place of stand,
And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now ? forswear it, sight!
For 1 ne'er saw true beauiy till this night.

7^. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:—
Fetch me my rapier, bo^: — What? dares the slave
Come hither, oover'd with an antic face.
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?
Now by the stock and honour of m^ kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap, Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore
storm you so ?

7^ Uncle, this is a Montaj^e, our foe ;
A villain that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.

1 Cap, Young Eomeo ist?

7y>. 'Tis he, that villain Romea

1 Cap, Content thee, gentle cox, let himalone.
He bears him like a portly gentleman ;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him.
To be a virtuous and well-govern *d youth :
I would not for the wealtli of all thb town,
Here in my bouse, do him disparagement:
Therefore be patient, take no note of htm.
It is my will ; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns.
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Jyb, It fits, when such a villaiu k» a guest ;
111 not endure him.

1 Cap. He shall be endur'd.

What, goodman boy! — I say, be shall ;— Go to;-
Am 1 the ma:>ter here, or you ? go to.
Youll not endure him ! — Ood shall mend my aool^
Youll make a mutiny among my guests I
Yoa will set cock-aphoon 1 .Tpu'U be the muU


ayb. Why, unole, *tis t Bliame.
1 Cap, Qo to, go to.

Too are t iiancj hoj : Is^ so indeed ?
This trick may ctuuice to scath you;— I know what
You must c mtrary met — marry, tis time —
Well said, my hearts! — You are a princox ; go : —
Be quiet. or^More light, more light. — For

m make you quiet ; What I— Cheerl^, my hearts.
7)fb. Patience perforce with wilful choler
Makes my Besh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall.
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [ExiL
Bom, If I profane with my on worthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,—-
My Ups, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

Tosmooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
JuL Good pilgrim, you do wrcng your hand too
Which mannerly derotlon shows in this ;
For taints have hands that pilgrims* hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy pi^mers' kiss.
Jiom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
JmL Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in

Bern, O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do ;
They pray, grant thou, lest faith torn to despair.
JiL ISaints do not move, though grant for

prayers* sake.
Bom, Then move not, while my prayers* effect
Thos from my lipt, by thine my sin is pni'^*^*

[Kisting her,
/tt2. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Bom, Hinfrom my lips? trespass sweetly org'd I
Qive me my sin again.
JuL Yon kiss by the book.

Nune, Madam, your mother craves a word

with you.
Bom, What is her mother?
Hurte, Marry, bachelor,

Her mother b the lady of the house.
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous :
I nnrs*a her daughter, that you talk*d withal ;
I tell von,— he, that can lay hold of her,
Shall nave the chinks.

Bom, Is she a Capnlet?

deir aooonnt! my life b my foe^ debt.
Ben. Away, begone ; the sport b at the best.
Bom, Ay, so i fear; the more b my unrest.

1 Coff, Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone.
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en so? Why, then I thank you all;

1 thank you, honest gentlemen ; good night: —
More torches here I— Come on, then let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah, [7b 2 C€^.] by my fay, it waxes late
111 to my rest

[Exevnt all but Juust and Nnrse.

JuL Come hither, nurse: Whatb yon gentle-

Nurse, The son and heir of old Tiberio.

JuL What's he, that now b going ont of door ?

Nuree, Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.

JvL What's he, that foUows there, that would
not dance?

Nurm, I know not.

JuL Go, ask hb name : — if he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nwne. Ub name b Komeo, and a Montague ;
The only son of your great enemy.

JuL My only love sprung from my only hate I
Too early seen unknown, and known too late I
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nuru, What's thb? What's thb?

JuL A rhyme 1 leam'd even now

Of one I danc'd withaL [ One calis wWdn, Julubt.

Nune, Anon, anon : —

Come, let's away ; the strangers all are gone.

Kowdddesirodothhi hla death-bad Ue.

And yooDg affection g»vtm to be^it heir ;
That fair, for which love groan'd for. and would db^

With tender Juliet matcb'd, li now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloT*d. and loves anin.

Alike bewitohed by the charm oflooks ;
fiat to his foe ■uppis'd he must complain.

And she eeeal iuve's sweet bttit from fearful hooks ;
Being held afoe, he may not have nooeaB

To breathe such tows as lovers use to swear ;

Online LibraryWilliam Michael Rossetti William ShakespeareThe complete works of Shakespeare: With a critical biography → online text (page 184 of 224)