Template:Dsh razor quote: Difference between revisions
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{{quote| | {{quote| | ||
{{script|Herculio}}: ’Tis neither malice, spite, nor virtue <br> | |||
Whose ledger swells, or plucks, the seedy fruits of progress — <br> | Whose ledger swells, or plucks, the seedy fruits of progress — <br> | ||
But mainly accident. <br> | But mainly accident. <br> | ||
Lest | Lest thee with surety know aught else —<br> | ||
Withhold thy assignations.<br> | Withhold thy assignations.<br> | ||
{{script|Triago}}: Pish upon thee, nuncle. Pish! <br> | |||
Dost thou mean to say <br> | Dost thou mean to say <br> | ||
Things peel this way<br> | Things peel this way<br> | ||
Through doughty misadventure?<br> | Through doughty misadventure?<br> | ||
{{script|Herculio}}: Peradventure — <br> | |||
{{script|Triago}}: Pish abeam! <br> | |||
Has thou no more to say than that?<br> | Has thou no more to say than that?<br> | ||
Wouldst thou on this shaky surmise <br> | Wouldst thou on this shaky surmise <br> | ||
Withhold rebuke? <br> | Withhold rebuke? <br> | ||
{{script|Herculio}}: Perchance, per case, mayhap dear Triago<br> | |||
’Twas but a fluke? | ’Twas but a fluke?<br> | ||
{{script|Triago}}: O! This nuisant planet weighs upon my soul! <br> | |||
{{script|Herculio}}: If ’tis thing and nought beside <br> | |||
That flies you to a vernal rage <br> | |||
The fickle globe in its manifold confound’ry <br> | |||
Lies prettily indeed <br> | |||
For thy alignment. <br> | |||
:—{{buchstein}}, {{dsh}}}} | :—{{buchstein}}, {{dsh}}}} | ||
Revision as of 08:11, 17 April 2024
Herculio: ’Tis neither malice, spite, nor virtue
Whose ledger swells, or plucks, the seedy fruits of progress —
But mainly accident.
Lest thee with surety know aught else —
Withhold thy assignations.
Triago: Pish upon thee, nuncle. Pish!
Dost thou mean to say
Things peel this way
Through doughty misadventure?
Herculio: Peradventure —
Triago: Pish abeam!
Has thou no more to say than that?
Wouldst thou on this shaky surmise
Withhold rebuke?
Herculio: Perchance, per case, mayhap dear Triago
’Twas but a fluke?
Triago: O! This nuisant planet weighs upon my soul!
Herculio: If ’tis thing and nought beside
That flies you to a vernal rage
The fickle globe in its manifold confound’ry
Lies prettily indeed
For thy alignment.