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Page 126 - And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall? — Farewell, fair queen; weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
Page 138 - Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, And burnt the topless towers of Ilium? Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss! Her lips suck forth my soul! See, where it flies! Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again. Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in these lips, And all is dross that is not Helena.
Page 139 - O, no end is limited to damned souls. Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or, why is this immortal that thou hast? Ah, Pythagoras' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be changed Unto some brutish beast.
Page 74 - Although my house be not so with God ; yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, ordered in all things, and sure : for this is all my salvation, and all my desire, although he make it not to grow.
Page 130 - Why this is hell, nor am I out of it : Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God, And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven, Am not tormented with ten thousand hells, In being deprived of everlasting bliss ? O Faustus ! leave these frivolous demands, Which strike a terror to my fainting soul.
Page 209 - But deeds and language such as men do use, And persons such as Comedy would choose, When she would show an image of the times. And sport with human follies, not with crimes; Except we make 'em such, by loving still Our popular errors, when we know they're ill.
Page 130 - I'd give them all for Mephistophilis. By him I'll be great emperor of the world, And make a bridge through the moving air, To pass the ocean with a band of men; I'll join the hills that bind the Afric shore, And make that [country] continent to Spain, And both contributory to my crown.
Page 128 - Wherewith the students shall be bravely clad; I'll levy soldiers with the coin they bring, And chase the Prince of Parma from our land, And reign sole king of all our provinces; Yea, stranger engines for the brunt of war, Than was the fiery keel at Antwerp's bridge, I'll make my servile spirits to invent.
Page 107 - And riot it with the treasure of the realm. While soldiers mutiny for want of pay, He wears a lord's revenue on his back, And Midas-like, he jets it in the court, With base outlandish cullions at his heels, Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show, As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.