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Page 119 - em. Caliban. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou earnest first, Thou strok'dst me and mad'st much of me, wouldst give me Water with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
Page 119 - would it had been done ! Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans. Pro. Abhorred slave ; Which any print of goodness will not take, Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known...
Page 143 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change, Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Hark! now I hear them - Ding-dong, bell.
Page 196 - O ! wonder ! How many goodly creatures are there here ! How beauteous mankind is ! O brave new world, That has such people in't ! Pro. Tis new to thee.
Page 164 - Perhaps, sweet youth, when you behold her, you Will find you do not love her. HIP. I find already I love, because she is another woman. FERD. You cannot love two women both at once.
Page 355 - Poets, like lovers, should be bold, and dare — They spoil their business with an over-care; And he, who servilely creeps after sense, Is safe, but ne'er will reach an excellence.
Page 388 - I'le lead you thence to melancholy Groves. And there repeat the Scenes of our past Loves: At night, I will within your Curtains peep; With empty arms embrace you while you sleep ; In gentle dreams I often will be by; And sweep along, before your closing eye.
Page 99 - Eloquence, which uses to make a business of a Letter of Gallantry, an examen of a Farce; and, in short, a great pomp and ostentation of words on every trifle. This is certainly the Talent of that Nation, and ought not to be invaded by any other.
Page 103 - Shakspeare's magic could not copied be ; Within that circle none durst walk but he.