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admiration affection appearance attention aunt Baron Baron de Saint beauty believe better brilliant called Captain cause CHAPTER charms cheek Colonel Pevensey comfort Count Count de Montfaucon course cousins daughters dear delight devoted doubt dress English eyes face fair father fear feel felt foreigners fortune French friends gentle Gerard girl give glance graceful hand happy head hear heart hope husband interest Italy Jeannetta kind knew Lady Lady Beauchamp less light living look lover mamma manner marriage marry match mean mind Miss Jenny mother nature never night noble object once Orde passion perhaps person poor present pride proud received Rosalie Saint Felix scarcely seemed sister smile sons spirit sure sweet tears thing thought turn Violet watching weak whole woman Woodville young
Seite 59 - Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou might'st know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, The biscuit, or confectionary plum ; The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed...
Seite 211 - Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully : Or, if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo ; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ; And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light ; But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
Seite 212 - Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry...
Seite 213 - O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Seite 211 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
Seite 226 - Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah why With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
Seite 62 - Which colour'd all his objects:— he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously— his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.
Seite 62 - Time taught him a deep answer — when she loved Another ; even now she loved another, And on the summit of that hill she stood Looking afar if yet her lover's steed Kept pace with her expectancy, and flew.