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Bartlette's Quotations: Romeo and Juliet.

To my Valentine, February 14, 2005 


"Cupid and Psyche" Jacques Louis David 1819

A Faery Song

Sung by the people of faery over Diarmuid and Grania,
In their bridal sleep under a cromlech

We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:

Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:

Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then;

We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.

~by W. B. Yeats

Sonnet 106, Shakespeare

When in the chronicle of wasted time


I see descriptions of the fairest wights, And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express'd
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look'd but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days, Had eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.

1

The weakest goes to the wall.

Act i. Sc. 1.

2

Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

Ibid.

3

An hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peered forth the golden window of the east.

Ibid.

4

As is the bud bit with an envious worm
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Ibid.

5

Saint-seducing gold.

Ibid.

6

He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

Ibid.

7

One fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

Sc. 2.

8

That book in many's eyes doth share the glory
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.

Sc. 3.

9

For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase.

Sc. 4.

10

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
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep.

Ibid.

11

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

Ibid.

12

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.

Ibid.

13

True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.

Ibid.

14

For you and I are past our dancing days.

Sc. 5.

15

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear.

Ibid.

16

Shall have the chinks.

Ibid.

17

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Ibid.

18

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid!

Act ii. Sc. 1.

19

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Sc. 2.

20

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

Ibid.

21

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Ibid.

22

What 's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.

Ibid.

23

For stony limits cannot hold love out.

Ibid.

24

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
Than twenty of their swords.

Ibid.

25

At lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs.

Ibid.

26

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--
Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Ibid.

27

The god of my idolatry.

Ibid.

28

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
Ere one can say, "It lightens."

Ibid.

29

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Ibid.

30

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!

Ibid.

31

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Ibid. 2

32

O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give,
Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse;
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometimes by action dignified.

Sc. 3.

33

Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie.

Ibid.

34

Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears.

Ibid.

35

Stabbed with a white wench's black eye.

Sc. 4.

36

The courageous captain of complements.

Ibid.

37

One, two, and the third in your bosom.

Ibid.

38

O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!

Ibid.

39

I am the very pink of courtesy.

Ibid.

40

A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.

Ibid.

41

My man 's as true as steel.

Ibid.

42

These violent delights have violent ends.

Sc. 6.

43

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Ibid.

44

Here comes the lady! O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.

Ibid.

45

Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat.

Act iii. Sc. 1.

46

A word and a blow.

Ibid.

47

A plague o' both your houses!

Ibid.

48

Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 't is enough, 't will serve.

Ibid.

49

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.

Sc. 2.

50

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!

Ibid.

51

Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

Ibid.

52

Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe.

Sc. 3.

53

They may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.

Ibid.

54

The damned use that word in hell.

Ibid.

55

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.

Ibid.

56

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

Ibid.

57

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.

Sc. 5.

58

Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.

Ibid.

59

All these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.

Ibid.

60

Villain and he be many miles asunder.

Ibid.

61

Thank me no thanks, nor proud me no prouds.

Ibid.

62

Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.

Act iv. Sc. 2.

63

My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne.

Act v. Sc. 1.

64

I do remember an apothecary,--
And hereabouts he dwells.

Ibid.

65

Meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones.

Ibid.

66

A beggarly account of empty boxes.

Ibid.

67

Famine is in thy cheeks.

Ibid.

68

The world is not thy friend nor the world's law.

Ibid.

69

Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Ibid.

70

The strength
Of twenty men.

Ibid.

71

One writ with me in sour misfortune's book.

Sc. 3.

72

Her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.

Ibid.

73

Beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

Ibid.

74

Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace!

Ibid.