Capulet. But sáying ó’er | what Í have sáid befóre:
My child is yét | a stránger ín the wórld;
She hás not séen | the chánge of fóurteen yéars:
Let twó more súmmers | wíther ín their príde,
Ére we may thínk her rípe | to bé a bríde.
Paris. Yóunger than shé | are happy móthers máde.
Capulet. And tóo soon márr’d | are thóse so éarly máde.
The éarth hath swállow’d | áll my hópes but shé,
Shé is the hópeful lády | óf mý éarth:
But wóo her, géntle Páris, | gét her héart,
My wíll to hér consént | is bút a párt; &c.
Romeo and Juliet, I. ii. 1–19.
Miranda. Íf by your árt, | my déarest fáther, you háve
Pút the wild wáters |ín this róar, | alláy them.
The ský, it séems, | would póur down stínking pítch,
Bút that the séa, | móunting to the wélkin’s chéek,
Dáshes the fíre óut. | Ó, I have súffered
With thóse thát I saw súffer: | a bráve véssel,
Who hád, no dóubt, | some nóble créature ín her,
Dash’d áll to píeces. | Ó, the crý did knóck
Agáinst my véry héart. | Poor sóuls, they pérish’d.
Had Í been ány gód of pówer, | I wóuld
Have súnk the séa | withín the éarth, | or ére
It shóuld the góod ship | só have swállow’d | ánd
The fráughting sóuls withín her. |
Prospero. Bé collécted:
No móre amázement: | téll your píteous héart
There’s nó harm dóne. |
Miranda. O wóe the dáy!
Prospero. No hárm!
Í have done nóthing | bút in cáre of thée,
Of thée, my déar one, | thée, my dáughter, | whó
Art ígnoránt of whát thou árt, | nought knówing
Of whénce I ám, | nór that I ám more bétter
Than Próspero, | máster óf a fúll poor céll,
And thý no gréater fáther. |
Miranda. Móre to knów
Did néver méddle wíth my thóughts. | &c.
Tempest, I. ii. 1–22