Charles Lamb's Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare: Including the Extracts from the Garrick Plays, Volume 1

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J.M. Dent and Company, 1893 - English drama
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Page 51 - Two kings in England cannot reign at once. But stay awhile, let me be king till night, That I may gaze upon this glittering crown; So shall my eyes receive their last content, My head, the latest honour due to it, And jointly both yield up their wished right. Continue ever thou celestial sun; Let never silent night possess this clime : Stand still you watches...
Page 41 - Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
Page 166 - There is no danger to a man, that knows What life and death is : there's not any law Exceeds his knowledge ; neither is it lawful That he should stoop to any other law : He goes before them, and commands them all, That to himself is a law rational.
Page 41 - twill all be past anon! Oh God! If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul, Yet for Christ's sake, whose blood hath ransomed me, Impose some end to my incessant pain; Let Faustus live in Hell a thousand years A hundred thousand, and at last be saved! Oh, no end is limited to damned souls ! Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? Or why is this immortal that thou hast? Ah, Pythagoras
Page xii - Do you remember the brown suit, which you made to hang upon you, till all your friends cried shame upon you, it grew so threadbare — and all because of that folio Beaumont and Fletcher, which you dragged home late at night from Barker's in Covent Garden?
Page xii - ... near ten o'clock of the Saturday night, when you set off from Islington, fearing you should be too late— and when the old bookseller with some grumbling opened his shop, and by...
Page 107 - Not what we ail'd, yet something we did ail; And yet were well, and yet we were not well, And what was our disease we could not tell. Then would we kiss, then sigh, then look. And thus In that first garden of our simpleness 'We spent our childhood. But when years began To reap the fruit of knowledge; ah, how then Would she with graver looks, with sweet stern brow, Check my presumption and my forwardness ; Yet still would give me flowers, still would me show What she would have me, yet not have me...
Page 47 - I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows ; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.
Page 233 - Bastard without a father to acknowledge it : true it is that my plays are not exposed to the world in volumes, to bear the title of works (as others *) one reason is that many of them by shifting and change of companies, have been negligently lost. Others of them are still retained in the hands of some actors, who think it against their peculiar profit to have them come in print, and a third that it never was any great ambition in me to be in this kind voluminously read.
Page 268 - mongst troops of spirits. No ring of bells to our ears sounds, No howls of wolves, no yelps of hounds ; No, not the noise of water's breach, Or cannon's throat, our height can reach.

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