Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, Volumes 1-6

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Westermann, 1849 - Languages, Modern
Vols. for 1858- include "Sitzungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für das Studium der neuren Sprachen."

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Page 20 - How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note of it ; the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. — How long hast thou been a grave-maker ? 1 Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
Page 11 - Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? And all for nothing...
Page 12 - Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Ha! 'Swounds, I should take it; for it cannot be But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall To make oppression bitter; or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave's offal; bloody, bawdy villain!
Page 210 - Oh, where, Kincora ! is Brian the Great ? And where is the beauty that once was thine ? Oh, where are the princes and nobles that sate At the feast in thy halls, and drank the red wine ? Where, O Kincora ? Oh, where, Kincora...
Page 22 - Examples gross as earth exhort me : Witness this army of such mass and charge Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell.
Page 23 - Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
Page 211 - Oh, dear are the images my memory calls up Of Brian Boru !—how he never would miss To give me at the banquet the first bright cup ! Ah ! why did he heap on me...
Page 210 - And where is Donogh, King Brian's worthy son? And where is Conaing, the Beautiful Chief? And Kian, and Core? Alas! they are gone — They have left me this night alone with my grief, Left me, Kincora!
Page 210 - And where is that youth of majestic height, The faith-keeping Prince of the Scots? — Even he, As wide as his fame was, as great as was his might, Was tributary, oh, Kincora, to thee! Thee, oh, Kincora! They are gone, those heroes of royal birth, Who plundered no churches, and broke no trust, 'Tis weary for me to be living on earth When they, oh, Kincora, lie low in the dust!
Page 210 - Oh, where is Duvlann of the Swift-footed Steeds ? And where is Kian, who was son of Molloy ? And where is King Lonergan, the fame of whose deeds In the red battle-field no time can destroy ? Where...

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