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Adeliza Apollonicon appeared archbishopric of Narbonne arms asked beautiful better Biddy Bill Sikes boatswain Bromley Brownlow Buckthorne called Cannon Cannon family Charley Bates child cloak Commodus Countess of Somerset cried dark dear death devil Dodger door exclaimed eyes face Fagin father favour fear feel followed give Glorvina Grampus Grimwig hand happy head heard heart honour hope hour husband inquired king knew laugh lived looked Lord Madame marriage Marsh Master mind Miss Monsieur mother Nancy never Niall night officer old gentleman Oliver Oliver Twist once passed passion Persia person poor replied returned round seemed seneschal Sikes smile soon soul stood stranger sure tell thee Theria thing thou thought tion told took Turgesius turned Tweasle voice walked wife window wish woice woman words
Page 584 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Page 487 - To plague the inventor; this even-handed justice Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice To our own lips.
Page 65 - I'll believe thee. Rom. If my heart's dear love Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say "It lightens.
Page 575 - Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale...
Page 383 - O for pity ! we shall much disgrace With four or five most vile and ragged foils, Right ill-disposed in brawl ridiculous, The name of Agincourt.
Page 578 - The Prince of Cumberland ! that is a step On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires ; Let not light see my black and deep desires : The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Page 580 - Nought's had, all's spent, Where our desire is got without content : 'Tis safer to be that which we destroy, Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.
Page 572 - I hate the Moor: And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets He has done my office: I know not if t be true; But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, Will do as if for surety.
Page 578 - This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill; cannot be good: if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature?