The Doubtful Plays of William Shakspeare

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G. Routledge, 1887 - 375 pages
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Page 24 - Per. Be it as you think meet.—Most wretched queen! Per. A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear, No light, no fire: the unfriendly elements Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight Must cast thee, scarcely coflin'd, in the ooze; Where, for a monument upon thy
Page 23 - on a Ship at sea. Per. Thou God of this great vast,J rebuke these surges, "Which wash both heaven and hell; and thou, that hast Upon the winds command, bind them in brass, Having call'd them from the deep ! O still thy deaf'ning Thy dreadful thunders; gently quench thy nimble, Sulphureous flashes !—O
Page 31 - poor maid, Born in a tempest, when my mother died, This world to me is like a lasting storm, Whirring me from my friends. Dion. How now, Marina ? Why do you keep alone ? How chance my daughter is not with you ? Do not Consume your blood with sorrowing: you
Page 356 - Tam. King, be thy thoughts imperious,* like thy name. Is the sun dimm'd, that gnats do fly in it ? The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby; Knowing that with the shadow of his wings, He can at pleasure
Page 329 - That will not suffer you to square yourselves, But to your wishes' height advance you both. The emperor's court is like the house of fame, The palace full of tongues, of eyes, of ears : The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take your turns: There serve your lust,
Page 27 - within; Fetch hither all the boxes in my closet. Death may usurp on nature many hours, And yet the fire of life kindle again The overpressed spirits. 1 have heard Of an Egyptian, had nine hours lien dead, By good appliance was recovered. Cer. Nay, certainly to-night: Enter a SERVANT, with boxes, napkins,
Page 23 - Lychorida, How does my queen ?—Thou storm, thou ! venomously Wilt thou spit all thyself ?—The seaman's whistle Is as a whisper in the ears of death, Unheard.—Lychorida ! Lucina, O Divinest patroness, and midwife, gentle To those that cry by night, convey thy deity Aboard our dancing boat; make swift the pangs Of my queen's travails !—Now, Lychorida Enter
Page 45 - I am the daughter to King Pericles, If good king Pericles be. It may be, Per. Ho, Helicanus ! Per. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, Most wise in general: Tell me, if thou canst, "What this maid is, or what is like to be, That thus hath made me weep
Page 31 - out ? and, with a dropping industry, The master calls, and trebles their confusion. Leon. And when was this ? Mar. It was when I was born: Never was waves nor wind more violent. Leon. Come, say your prayers speedily. Mar. What mean you? Leon. If you require a little space for prayer, I grant it: Pray;
Page 15 - 3 Fish. What say you, master? 1 Fish. Alas, poor souls, it grieved my heart to hear what pitiful cries they made to us, to help them, when, well-a-day, we could scarce help ourselves. 3 Fish. 'Faith, master, I am thinking of the poor men that were cast away before us, even now. 1 Fish.

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