Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
Therefore another prologue must tell he is not a lion
Though she be but little, she is fierce!
Ay, in the temple, in the town, the field, You do me mischief. Fie, Demetrius! Your wrongs do set a scandal on my sex: We cannot fight for love, as men ay do; We should be woo'd, and were not made to woo. I'll follow thee, and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.
Because it is a customary cross, As die to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears, poor fancy's followers.
Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.- Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!
I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.
O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!
O, then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell!
O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd! She was a vixen when she went to school; And though she be but little, she is fierce.
Oh, what fools these mortals be!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories