What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
againft Angela Ariel art thou bafe Bawd becaufe beft brother Caius Caliban caufe Clown daughter defire Demetrius doth Duke Efcal elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid Fairies falfe fame father fatire feems fenfe fent feven fhall fhould filk fince firft fleep fliall fome Ford foul fpeak fpirit Friar ftand ftill ftrange fuch fure fweet give grace hall hath hear heart heav'n Hermia himfelf honour houfe Ifab ihall Laun lofe look Lord Lucia Lucio Lyfander Madam maid mailer Marry matter miftrefs Mira moft monfter muft myfelf night pleafe Poet Pompey pray prefent prifon Protheus Puck purpofe reafon reft Sbal Silvia Speed Sycorax tell thee thefe there's thing thofe thou art Thurio Valentine whofe wife woman word worfe
Page 28 - All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, .Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Page 42 - Hence, bashful cunning; And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant Whether you will or no.
Page 63 - And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
Page 95 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Page 96 - Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell : It fell upon a little western flower, — Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, — And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Page 148 - If we shadows have offended. Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here, While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: If you pardon, we will mend.
Page 35 - Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.