The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Othello, The Tempest, King Lear, The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer Night's ... Julius Caesar, The Comedy of Errors…

by William Shakespeare

fiery Tybalt,

breath’d defiance

cut the ...

hiss’d him in...

to-day?

fray.

worshipp’d sun Peer’d forth the golden window of the east,

stole into the covert of the wood.

With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs,

all-cheering sun

shady curtains from Aurora’s bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son,

locks fair daylight out,

an artificial night. Black and portendous must this humor prove,

Is the day so young?

Out of her favor where I am in love.

O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first [create]! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, Misshapen chaos of well[-seeming] forms, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purg’d, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes, Being vex’d, a sea nourish’d with loving tears.

madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz.

This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.

With Cupid’s arrow, she hath Dian’s wit; And in strong proof of chastity well arm’d, From Love’s weak childish bow she lives uncharm’d.

siege of loving terms,

encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to sai...

when she dies, with beauty dies her store.

in that sparing [makes] huge waste;

’tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace.

honorable reckoning are you both,

pity ’tis you liv’d at odds so long.

a stranger in the world,

not seen the change of fourteen years;

two more ...

ripe to be a...

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

marr’d

Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;

My will to her consent is but a part;

within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice.

Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.

Rosaline,

Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

where’s my daughter?

by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come.

lamb!

lady...

Madam, I am here, What is your will?

Nurse, give leave a while, We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again, I have rememb’red me, thou s’ hear our counsel.

pretty age.

I can tell her age unto an hour.

And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four—

A fortnight and odd days.

Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.