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diff --git a/vendor/mikespub/php-epub-meta/test/data/markup.2.xml b/vendor/mikespub/php-epub-meta/test/data/markup.2.xml new file mode 100644 index 000000000..643df54a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/vendor/mikespub/php-epub-meta/test/data/markup.2.xml @@ -0,0 +1,1175 @@ +<div> + <div> + <h3>SCENE I. Verona. A public place.</h3> + <div> + + <p>Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed + with swords and bucklers + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>No, for then we should be colliers. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>I strike quickly, being moved. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: + <br /> + therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will + <br /> + take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes + <br /> + to the wall. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, + <br /> + are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push + <br /> + Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids + <br /> + to the wall. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I + <br /> + have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the + <br /> + maids, and cut off their heads. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>The heads of the maids? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; + <br /> + take it in what sense thou wilt. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>They must take it in sense that feel it. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and + <br /> + 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou + <br /> + hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes + <br /> + two of the house of the Montagues. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>How! turn thy back and run? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Fear me not. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>No, marry; I fear thee! + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as + <br /> + they list. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; + <br /> + which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR</p> + + + <p> + <strong>ABRAHAM</strong> + </p> + + <p>Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>I do bite my thumb, sir. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ABRAHAM</strong> + </p> + + <p>Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say + <br /> + ay? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>No. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I + <br /> + bite my thumb, sir. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>Do you quarrel, sir? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ABRAHAM</strong> + </p> + + <p>Quarrel sir! no, sir. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as + you. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ABRAHAM</strong> + </p> + + <p>No better. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Well, sir. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>GREGORY</strong> + </p> + + <p>Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Yes, better, sir. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ABRAHAM</strong> + </p> + + <p>You lie. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>SAMPSON</strong> + </p> + + <p>Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing + blow. + <br /> + </p> + <p>They fight</p> + <p>Enter BENVOLIO</p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Part, fools! + <br /> + Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Beats down their swords</p> + <p>Enter TYBALT</p> + + + <p> + <strong>TYBALT</strong> + </p> + + <p>What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? + <br /> + Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, + <br /> + Or manage it to part these men with me. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>TYBALT</strong> + </p> + + <p>What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, + <br /> + As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: + <br /> + Have at thee, coward! + <br /> + </p> + <p>They fight</p> + <p>Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter + Citizens, with clubs + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>First Citizen</strong> + </p> + + <p>Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! + <br /> + Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + <br /> + </p> + <p>Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET</p> + + + <p> + <strong>CAPULET</strong> + </p> + + <p>What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>LADY CAPULET</strong> + </p> + + <p>A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>CAPULET</strong> + </p> + + <p>My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, + <br /> + And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE</p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Thou villain Capulet,—Hold me not, let me go. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>LADY MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Enter PRINCE, with Attendants</p> + + + <p> + <strong>PRINCE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, + <br /> + Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,— + <br /> + Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, + <br /> + That quench the fire of your pernicious rage + <br /> + With purple fountains issuing from your veins, + <br /> + On pain of torture, from those bloody hands + <br /> + Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, + <br /> + And hear the sentence of your moved prince. + <br /> + Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, + <br /> + By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, + <br /> + Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, + <br /> + And made Verona's ancient citizens + <br /> + Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, + <br /> + To wield old partisans, in hands as old, + <br /> + Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: + <br /> + If ever you disturb our streets again, + <br /> + Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. + <br /> + For this time, all the rest depart away: + <br /> + You Capulet; shall go along with me: + <br /> + And, Montague, come you this afternoon, + <br /> + To know our further pleasure in this case, + <br /> + To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. + <br /> + Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and + BENVOLIO + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? + <br /> + Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Here were the servants of your adversary, + <br /> + And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: + <br /> + I drew to part them: in the instant came + <br /> + The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, + <br /> + Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, + <br /> + He swung about his head and cut the winds, + <br /> + Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: + <br /> + While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, + <br /> + Came more and more and fought on part and part, + <br /> + Till the prince came, who parted either part. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>LADY MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? + <br /> + Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun + <br /> + Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, + <br /> + A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; + <br /> + Where, underneath the grove of sycamore + <br /> + That westward rooteth from the city's side, + <br /> + So early walking did I see your son: + <br /> + Towards him I made, but he was ware of me + <br /> + And stole into the covert of the wood: + <br /> + I, measuring his affections by my own, + <br /> + That most are busied when they're most alone, + <br /> + Pursued my humour not pursuing his, + <br /> + And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Many a morning hath he there been seen, + <br /> + With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. + <br /> + Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; + <br /> + But all so soon as the all-cheering sun + <br /> + Should in the furthest east begin to draw + <br /> + The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, + <br /> + Away from the light steals home my heavy son, + <br /> + And private in his chamber pens himself, + <br /> + Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out + <br /> + And makes himself an artificial night: + <br /> + Black and portentous must this humour prove, + <br /> + Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>I neither know it nor can learn of him. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Have you importuned him by any means? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>Both by myself and many other friends: + <br /> + But he, his own affections' counsellor, + <br /> + Is to himself—I will not say how true— + <br /> + But to himself so secret and so close, + <br /> + So far from sounding and discovery, + <br /> + As is the bud bit with an envious worm, + <br /> + Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, + <br /> + Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. + <br /> + Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. + <br /> + We would as willingly give cure as know. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Enter ROMEO</p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; + <br /> + I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>MONTAGUE</strong> + </p> + + <p>I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, + <br /> + To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE</p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Good-morrow, cousin. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Is the day so young? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>But new struck nine. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Ay me! sad hours seem long. + <br /> + Was that my father that went hence so fast? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>In love? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Out— + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Of love? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Out of her favour, where I am in love. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, + <br /> + Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, + <br /> + Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! + <br /> + Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? + <br /> + Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. + <br /> + Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. + <br /> + Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! + <br /> + O any thing, of nothing first create! + <br /> + O heavy lightness! serious vanity! + <br /> + Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! + <br /> + Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, + <br /> + sick health! + <br /> + Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! + <br /> + This love feel I, that feel no love in this. + <br /> + Dost thou not laugh? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>No, coz, I rather weep. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Good heart, at what? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>At thy good heart's oppression. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Why, such is love's transgression. + <br /> + Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, + <br /> + Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest + <br /> + With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown + <br /> + Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. + <br /> + Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; + <br /> + Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; + <br /> + Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: + <br /> + What is it else? a madness most discreet, + <br /> + A choking gall and a preserving sweet. + <br /> + Farewell, my coz. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Soft! I will go along; + <br /> + An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; + <br /> + This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>What, shall I groan and tell thee? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Groan! why, no. + <br /> + But sadly tell me who. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: + <br /> + Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! + <br /> + In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit + <br /> + With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; + <br /> + And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, + <br /> + From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. + <br /> + She will not stay the siege of loving terms, + <br /> + Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, + <br /> + Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: + <br /> + O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, + <br /> + That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, + <br /> + For beauty starved with her severity + <br /> + Cuts beauty off from all posterity. + <br /> + She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, + <br /> + To merit bliss by making me despair: + <br /> + She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow + <br /> + Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>O, teach me how I should forget to think. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>By giving liberty unto thine eyes; + <br /> + Examine other beauties. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>ROMEO</strong> + </p> + + <p>'Tis the way + <br /> + To call hers exquisite, in question more: + <br /> + These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows + <br /> + Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; + <br /> + He that is strucken blind cannot forget + <br /> + The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: + <br /> + Show me a mistress that is passing fair, + <br /> + What doth her beauty serve, but as a note + <br /> + Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? + <br /> + Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + <br /> + </p> + + + <p> + <strong>BENVOLIO</strong> + </p> + + <p>I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + <br /> + </p> + <p>Exeunt</p> + + + </div> + </div> +</div> + |