Shakespeare's Scholar: Being Historical and Critical Studies of His Text, Characters, and Commentators, with an Examination of Mr. Collier's Folio of 1632

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D. Appleton, 1854 - Всего страниц: 504
 

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Стр. 238 - To-day, my lord of Amiens and myself Did steal behind him, as he lay along Under an oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood...
Стр. 382 - Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say ' This thing's to do;' Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do't.
Стр. 34 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come.
Стр. 118 - Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Стр. 294 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Стр. 44 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Стр. 212 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Стр. 40 - The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry 'Hold, hold!
Стр. 158 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn ; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, , bring again, ' . -' Seals of love, but seal'd in vain. seal'd in vain.
Стр. 118 - From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty ; As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint; our natures do pursue (Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,) A thirsty evil ; and when we drinK, we die.

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