The Plays & Poems of Shakespeare: Antony & Cleopatra. Cymbeline

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H:O. Bohn, 1857
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Page 44 - So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings. At the helm A seeming mermaid steers; the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her; and Antony Enthroned i...
Page 45 - I saw her once Hop forty paces through the public street : And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted> That she did make defect, perfection, And, breathless, power breathe forth. Mec. Now Antony must leave her utterly. Eno. Never ; he will not ; Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety : Other women Cloy th' appetites they feed ; but she makes hungry, Where most she satisfies.
Page 62 - By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth Or foison follow. The higher Nilus swells, The more it promises; as it ebbs, the seedsman Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, And shortly comes to harvest. LEP. You've strange serpents there. ANT. Ay, Lepidus. LEP. Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the operation of your sun. So is your crocodile.
Page 145 - His legs bestrid the ocean; his rear'd arm Crested the world; his voice was propertied As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in 't, an autumn 'twas That grew the more by reaping...
Page 318 - To fair Fidele's grassy tomb Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, And rifle all the breathing spring. No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove: But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No withered witch shall here be seen, No goblins lead their nightly crew; The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew!
Page 141 - My desolation does begin to make A better life: 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave, A minister of her will ; And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds ; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change ; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
Page 135 - Noblest of men, woo't die ? Hast thou no care of me ? shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better than a sty ? O, see, my women, [Antony dies. The crown o
Page 128 - Eros! — I come, my queen. — Eros! — Stay for me : Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze : Dido and her ./Eneas shall want troops, And all the haunt be ours.
Page 126 - That, which is now a horse, even with a thought; The rack * dislimns ; and makes it indistinct, As water is in water. Eros. It does, my lord. Ant. My good knave, Eros, now thy captain is Even such a body : here I am Antony ; Yet cannot hold this visible shape.
Page 32 - We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good ; so find we profit, By losing of our prayers.

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