Webster & Tourneur

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Vizetelly, 1888 - 432 páginas
 

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Página iv - What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid! Heard words that have been So nimble and so full of subtle flame As if that every one from whence they came Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, And had resolved to live a fool the rest Of his dull life.
Página 208 - Not a whit : What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds ? or to be smothered With cassia ; or to be shot to death with pearls ? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits...
Página 206 - Most ambitiously. Princes' images on their tombs do not lie. as they were wont, seeming to pray up to Heaven ; but with their hands under their cheeks, as if they died of the toothache ; they are not carved with their eyes fixed upon the stars ; but as their minds were wholly bent upon, the world, the selfsame •way they seem, to turn their faces.
Página 201 - Indeed, I thank him. Nothing but noise and folly Can keep me in my right wits; whereas reason And silence make me stark mad.
Página 144 - I remember. After these triumphs and this large expense, It's fit, like thrifty husbands, we inquire What's laid up for to-morrow. Ant. So please your beauteous excellence. Duch. Beauteous ! Indeed, I thank you : I look young for your sake ; You have ta'en my cares upon you.
Página 1 - If it be objected this is no true dramatic poem, I shall easily confess it; non potes in nugas dicere plura meas Ipse ego quam dixi, willingly and not ignorantly in this kind have I faulted; for should a man present to such an auditory the most sententious tragedy that ever was written, observing all the critical laws, as height of style and gravity of person...
Página 207 - Strew your hair with powders sweet, Don clean linen, bathe your feet, And (the foul fiend more to check) A crucifix let bless your neck. 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day ; End your groan, and come away.
Página 138 - That lay in a dead palsy, and to dote On that sweet countenance ; but in that look There speaketh so divine a continence, As cuts off all lascivious and vain hope. Her days are practis'd in such noble virtue, That sure her nights, nay more, her very sleeps, Are more in heaven, than other ladies
Página 165 - t in cullises." I 'll tell you, This is a creature bred by [Re-enter Servant] SERV. Your husband 's come, Hath deliver'da letter to the Duke of Calabria That, to my thinking, hath put him out of his wits. [Exit.] JULIA. Sir, you hear: Pray, let me know your business and your suit As briefly as can be.
Página 207 - I pray thee, look thou giv'st my little boy Some syrup for his cold, and let the girl Say her prayers ere she sleep. Now what you please : What death? Bos. Strangling; here are your executioners. Duch. I forgive them: The apoplexy, catarrh, or cough o' the lungs, Would do as much as they do.

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