Shakespeare's London: a study of London in the reign of Queen Elizabeth (Google eBook)

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J.M. Dent & co., 1897 - London (England) - 257 pages
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Page 48 - Will I upon thy party wear this rose: And here I prophesy, This brawl to-day, Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden, Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Page 106 - And, because the breath of flowers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight than to know what be the flowers and plants that do best perfume the air.
Page 189 - ... it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
Page 251 - Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room. Even in the eyes of all posterity That wear this world out to the ending doom.
Page 107 - Then the strawberry leaves dying, with a most excellent cordial smell. Then the flower of the vines : it is a little dust like the dust of a bent, which grows upon the cluster in the first coming forth.
Page 152 - O ! it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but tyrannous To use it like a giant.
Page 107 - Bays likewise yield no smell as they grow, rosemary little, nor sweet marjoram. That which above all others yields the sweetest smell in the air is the violet, especially the white double violet, which comes twice a year, about the middle of April and about Bartholomew-tide.
Page 85 - GOD ALMIGHTY first planted a garden. And, indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures ; it is the greatest refreshment to the spirits of man, without which buildings and palaces are but gross handiworks.
Page 208 - There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
Page 25 - ... of ten thousand spectators at least (at several times), who in the tragedian that represents his person imagine they behold him fresh bleeding.

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