The Works of Shakespeare, Band 2,Ausgabe 7 |
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Seite 92
Good Lord Boyet , my beauty , though but mean , Needs not the painted flourish of your praise : Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye , Not utter'd by base tale of chapmen's ' tongues : I am less proud to hear you tell my worth Than ...
Good Lord Boyet , my beauty , though but mean , Needs not the painted flourish of your praise : Beauty is bought by judgment of the eye , Not utter'd by base tale of chapmen's ' tongues : I am less proud to hear you tell my worth Than ...
Seite 107
Ay , my Continent of Beauty . Ros . Why , she that bears the bow . Cost . Finely put off ! BOYET . My Lady goes to kill horns ; but , if thou marry , Hang me by the neck , if horns that year miscarry . Cost . Finely put on ! Ros .
Ay , my Continent of Beauty . Ros . Why , she that bears the bow . Cost . Finely put off ! BOYET . My Lady goes to kill horns ; but , if thou marry , Hang me by the neck , if horns that year miscarry . Cost . Finely put on ! Ros .
Seite 121
That I may swear Beauty doth beauty lack , If that she learn not of her eye to look : No face is fair that is not full so black . KING . O paradox ! Black is the badge of Hell , The hue of dungeons , and the suit of night ; And beauty's ...
That I may swear Beauty doth beauty lack , If that she learn not of her eye to look : No face is fair that is not full so black . KING . O paradox ! Black is the badge of Hell , The hue of dungeons , and the suit of night ; And beauty's ...
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