Criticisms and Dramatic Essays of the English Stage

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G. Routledge and Company, 1854 - 324
 

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Strona 268 - Methinks I should know you and know this man; Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant What place this is, and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Strona 211 - O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh.
Strona 268 - Pray, do not mock me : I am a very foolish fond old man, Fourscore and upward, not an hour more nor less; And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful: for I am mainly ignorant What place this is; and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night.
Strona 287 - Cut me to pieces, Volsces ; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. Boy ! False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it. Boy ! Auf.
Strona 265 - No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall— I will do such things, — "What they are, yet I know not ; but they shall he The terrors of the earth.
Strona 177 - Come, then, the colours and the ground prepare; Dip in the rainbow, trick her off in air; Choose a firm cloud before it fall, and in it Catch, ere she change, the Cynthia of this minute.
Strona 59 - What more felicity can fall to creature Than to enjoy delight with liberty, And to be lord of all the works of nature! To reign in the air from earth to highest sky, To feed on flowers and weeds of glorious feature, To take whatever thing doth please the eye ! Who rests not pleased with such happiness, Well worthy he to taste of wretchedness.
Strona 202 - Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, But with a little act upon the blood, Burn like the mines of sulphur.
Strona 42 - Should God create another Eve, and I Another rib afford, yet loss of thee Would never from my heart : no, no ! I feel The link of nature draw me : flesh of flesh, Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.
Strona 200 - Indeed!' And didst contract and purse thy brow together, As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, Show me thy thought.

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