Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher: Notes and Lectures

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Edward Howell, 1874 - 318 pages
 

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Page 142 - Amen, amen ! But come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight. Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare. It is enough I may but call her mine.
Page 171 - Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse. We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us.
Page 231 - It will have blood, they say ; blood will have blood : Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak ; Augurs, and understood relations, have By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood.
Page 88 - Subtle as sphinx ; as sweet, and musical, As bright Apollo's lute, strung with his hair ; And, when love speaks, the voice of all the gods Makes heaven drowsy with the harmony.
Page 185 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune,— often the surfeit of our own behavior,— we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence...
Page 87 - But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain, But, with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power, And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.
Page 143 - For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night, Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night: come, loving, black-brow'd night Give me my Romeo: and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Page 225 - Good sir, why do you start ; and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair? — I' the name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner You greet with present grace, and great prediction...

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