The Fair Maid of the Exchange: A Comedy

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Shakespeare society, 1846 - 182 oldal
 

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91. oldal - Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging ; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. — Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night ! That rude day's eyes may wink, and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
vi. oldal - Moors are now well enough known to be by many shades less unworthy of a white woman's fancy) — it is the perfect triumph of virtue over accidents, of the imagination over the senses. She sees Othello's colour in his mind. But upon the stage, when the imagination is no longer the ruling faculty, but we are left to our poor unassisted senses, I appeal to every one that has seen Othello...
vi. oldal - Othello's mind in his colour, — whether he did not find something extremely revolting in the courtship and wedded caresses of Othello and Desdemona, and whether the actual sight of the thing did not overweigh all that beautiful compromise which we make in reading. And the reason it should do so is obvious, — because there is just so much reality presented to our senses as to give a perception of disagreement...
33. oldal - Which from the world is hidden. Go pretty birds and tell her so, See that your notes strain not too low, For still methinks I see her frown ; Ye pretty wantons warble. Go tune your voices' harmony And sing, I am her lover ; Strain loud and sweet, that every note With sweet content may move her : And she that hath the sweetest voice, Tell her I will not change my choice ; Yet still methinks I see her frown ! Ye pretty wantons warble.
33. oldal - Go, pretty birds, about her bower ; Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower ; Ah, me ! methinks I see her frown ! Ye pretty wantons, warble. Go, tell her, through your chirping bills, As you by me are bidden, To her is only known my love, Which from the world is hidden. Go, pretty birds, and tell her so ; See that your notes strain not too low, 96 For still, methinks, I see her frown. Ye pretty wantons, warble. Go, tune your voices...
xi. oldal - Mayde of the Exchange : WITH The pleasaunt Humours of the Cripple of Fanchurch. Very delectable, and full of mirth. LONDON: Printed for Henry Rockit, and are to be solde at the shop in the Poultry under the Dyall. 1607.
91. oldal - I had, — cuts my hatband, and yet it was massy goldsmith's work, cuts my brims, which, by good fortune, being thick embroidered with gold twist and spangles, disappointed the force of the blow : nevertheless, it grazed on my shoulder, takes me away six purls of an Italian cut-work band I wore, cost me three pound in the Exchange but three days before.
i. oldal - J. PAYNE COLLIER, ESQ., FSA, DIRECTOR. BOLTON CORNEY, ESQ. PETER CUNNINGHAM, ESQ., TREASURER. THE REV. ALEXANDER DYCE. SIR HENRY ELLIS, KH, FRS, FSA JOHN FORSTER, ESQ.