Saltillo
A Hair On The Head Of John The Baptist
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Добавлена 25 марта 2013 пользователем Миша
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Текст песни A Hair On The Head Of John The Baptist
Текст песни A Hair On The Head Of John The Baptist
Выдержки из "Гамлета" и "Генри IV".
Ophelia:
(...) Their perfume lost, take these again; for to the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. There, my lord.
Hamlet:
Are you honest?
Ophelia:
My lord?
Hamlet:
Are you fair?
Ophelia:
What means your lordship? (...)
Hamlet:
I did love you once.
Ophelia:
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
Hamlet:
(...) I loved you not.
Ophelia:
I was the more deceived.
Hamlet:
Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? (...) We are arrant knaves all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Ophelia:
O, help him, you sweet heavens!
Hamlet:
If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. (...) Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.
Queen:
Thou know'st 'tis common: all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Hamlet:
Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen:
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Hamlet:
Ophelia:
(...) Their perfume lost, take these again; for to the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. There, my lord.
Hamlet:
Are you honest?
Ophelia:
My lord?
Hamlet:
Are you fair?
Ophelia:
What means your lordship? (...)
Hamlet:
I did love you once.
Ophelia:
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
Hamlet:
(...) I loved you not.
Ophelia:
I was the more deceived.
Hamlet:
Get thee to a nunnery! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? (...) We are arrant knaves all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Ophelia:
O, help him, you sweet heavens!
Hamlet:
If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. (...) Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them.
Queen:
Thou know'st 'tis common: all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Hamlet:
Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen:
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Hamlet:
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