Speeches (Lines) for Shakespeare in "Phoenix and the Turtle"
Total: 19
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# |
Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
I,1,1 |
Let the bird of loudest lay,
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings obey.
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2 |
I,1,5 |
But thou shrieking harbinger,
Foul precurrer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever's end,
To this troop come thou not near!
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3 |
I,1,9 |
From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing,
Save the eagle, feather'd king:
Keep the obsequy so strict.
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4 |
I,1,13 |
Let the priest in surplice white,
That defunctive music can,
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.
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5 |
I,1,17 |
And thou treble-dated crow,
That thy sable gender makest
With the breath thou givest and takest,
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
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6 |
I,1,21 |
Here the anthem doth commence:
Love and constancy is dead;
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.
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7 |
I,1,25 |
So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none:
Number there in love was slain.
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8 |
I,1,29 |
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
'Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder.
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9 |
I,1,33 |
So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix' sight;
Either was the other's mine.
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10 |
I,1,37 |
Property was thus appalled,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature's double name
Neither two nor one was called.
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11 |
I,1,41 |
Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together,
To themselves yet either neither,
Simple were so well compounded,
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12 |
I,1,45 |
That it cried, How true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none,
If what parts can so remain.
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13 |
I,1,49 |
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phoenix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love,
As chorus to their tragic scene.
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14 |
I,1,53 |
THRENOS.
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15 |
I,1,54 |
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed in cinders lie.
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16 |
I,1,57 |
Death is now the phoenix' nest
And the turtle's loyal breast
To eternity doth rest,
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17 |
I,1,60 |
Leaving no posterity:
'Twas not their infirmity,
It was married chastity.
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18 |
I,1,63 |
Truth may seem, but cannot be:
Beauty brag, but 'tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be.
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19 |
I,1,66 |
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair
For these dead birds sigh a prayer. |