The Dramatic Works, Volume 1 |
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Page 33
Yourself , sweet lady ; for you gave the fire : Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks , and spends what he borrows , kindly in your company . Thu. Sir , if you spend word for word with me , I shall make your wit bankrupt ...
Yourself , sweet lady ; for you gave the fire : Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks , and spends what he borrows , kindly in your company . Thu. Sir , if you spend word for word with me , I shall make your wit bankrupt ...
Page 34
And I will help thee to prefer her too : She shall be dignified with this high honour ,To bear my lady's train : lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss , And , of so great a favour growing proud , Disdain to ...
And I will help thee to prefer her too : She shall be dignified with this high honour ,To bear my lady's train : lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss , And , of so great a favour growing proud , Disdain to ...
Page 41
Sweet lady , let me rake it from the earth . Sil . Go to thy lady's grave , and call her's thence ; Or , at the least , in her's sepulchre thine . Jul . He heard not that . [ Aside . Jul . Where is Launce ? Host .
Sweet lady , let me rake it from the earth . Sil . Go to thy lady's grave , and call her's thence ; Or , at the least , in her's sepulchre thine . Jul . He heard not that . [ Aside . Jul . Where is Launce ? Host .
Page 42
Urge not my father's anger , Eglamour , But think upon my grief , a lady's grief ; And on the justice of my flying hence , To keep me from a most unholy match , Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues .
Urge not my father's anger , Eglamour , But think upon my grief , a lady's grief ; And on the justice of my flying hence , To keep me from a most unholy match , Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues .
Page 43
... That my poor mistress , moved therewithal , Wept bitterly ; and , would I might be dead , If I in thought felt not her very sorrow ! Sil . She is beholden to thee , gentle youth !Alas , poor lady ! desolate and left !
... That my poor mistress , moved therewithal , Wept bitterly ; and , would I might be dead , If I in thought felt not her very sorrow ! Sil . She is beholden to thee , gentle youth !Alas , poor lady ! desolate and left !
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