Thomas Kyd's Spanish Tragedy

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E. Felber, 1901 - 139 pages

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Page 104 - Latini, et quo quemque modo fugiatque feratque laborem. sunt geminae Somni portae, quarum altera fertur cornea, qua veris facilis datur exitus umbris, altera candenti perfecta nitens elephanto, sed falsa ad caelum mittunt insomnia Manes.
Page lxxxvi - O sir, you are too forward : thou wouldst fain furnish me with a halter, to disfurnish me of my habit. So I should go out of this gear, my raiment, into that gear, the rope. But, hangman, now I spy your knavery, I '11 not change without boot, that's flat.
Page 96 - Was, do not say what : let her weep it out. This was the tree, I set it of a kernel; And when our hot Spain could not let it grow, But that the infant and the human sap Began to wither, duly twice a morning Would I be sprinkling it with...
Page 45 - I thus sequester'd from the court? No notice! — Shall I not know the cause Of these my secret and suspicious ills? Accursed brother, unkind murderer, Why bends thou thus thy mind to martyr me? Hieronimo, why writ I of thy wrongs, Or why art thou so slack in thy revenge?
Page xcix - The trespasse that my father made in peace Is now controlde by fortune of the warres ; And cards once dealt, it bootes not aske why so. 140 His men are slaine, — a weakening to his realme ; His colours ceaz'd, — a blot vnto his name ; His sonne distrest, — a corsiue to his hart : These punishments may cleare his late offence.
Page 53 - Strike, and strike home, where wrong is offered thee; For evils unto ills conductors be, And death's the worst of resolution. For he that thinks with patience to contend [290 To quiet life, his life shall easily end.
Page 66 - And men may think what we imagine not. Bal. Why, this is friendly done, Hieronimo. Lor. And that I hope old grudges are forgot. Hier. What else? It were a shame it should not be so. Cast. Come on, Hieronimo, at my request; 165 Let us entreat your company to-day.
Page xxiii - Newly corrected and amended of such grosse faults as | passed in the first impression.
Page 65 - I'll meet him face to face, to tell me so! These be the scandalous reports of such As love not me, and hate my lord too much.
Page 90 - God ! confusion, mischief, torment, death and hell, Drop all your stings at once in my cold bosom, That now is stiff with horror ; kill me quickly : Be gracious to me, thou infective night...

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