Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument, And her immortal part with angels lives.
—More validity, More honourable state, more courtship lives In carrion flies than Romeo: they may seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand, And steal immortal blessing from her lips; Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; But Romeo may not; he is banished,— This may flies do, when I from this must fly.
He fights as you sing prick-song—keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house,—of the first and second cause: ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay.
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Zeus and the other gods were supposed to be immortal.