Noctes Shaksperianæ: A Series of Papers by Late and Present Members

Portada
Warren & son, 1887 - 299 páginas
 

Páginas seleccionadas

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 175 - Lear. My wits begin to turn. Come on, my boy : how dost, my boy ? art cold ? I am cold myself. Where is this straw, my fellow ? The art of our necessities is strange, That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel. Poor fool and knave, I have one part in my heart That's sorry yet for thee.
Página 79 - Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.
Página 106 - That suck'd the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh...
Página 243 - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there...
Página 208 - I shall despair. — There is no creature loves me ; And, if I die, no soul will pity me : — Nay, wherefore should they ? since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself. Methought the souls of all that I had murdered Came to my tent ; and every one did threat To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.
Página 99 - All this the world well knows; yet none knows well To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. cxxx My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips...
Página 244 - He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being : that done, he lets me go : And with his head over his shoulder turn'd, He seem'd to find his way without his eyes ; For out o' doors he went without their help, And to the last bended their light on me.
Página 19 - And portance in my travel's history; Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven, It was my hint to speak, — such was the process; And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
Página 267 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.

Información bibliográfica