A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 5

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William Carew Hazlitt
Reeves and Turner, 1874 - English drama
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Page 230 - Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Page 84 - Thus must we toil in other men's extremes, That know not how to remedy our own; And do them justice, when unjustly we, For all our wrongs, can compass no redress. But shall I never live to see the day, That I may come, by justice of the heavens, To know the cause that may my cares allay? This toils my body, this consumeth age, That only I to all men just must be, And neither gods nor men be just to me.
Page 124 - If neither ; yet let this thy comfort be, Heaven covereth him that hath no burial. And to conclude, I will revenge his death : But how 1 not as the vulgar wits of men, With open but inevitable ills, As by a secret, yet a certain mean, Which under kindship will be cloaked best. Wise men will take their opportunity, Closely and safely fitting things to time.
Page 104 - Should move a man as much as doth a son : For one of these, in very little time, Will grow to some good use ; whereas a son, The more he grows in stature and in years, The more unsquar'd, unbevell'd he appears, Reckons his parents among the rank of fools, Strikes care upon their heads with his mad riots ; Makes them look old, before they meet with age.
Page 8 - When I was slain, my soul descended straight To pass the flowing stream of Acheron; But churlish Charon, only boatman there, 20 Said that, my rites of burial not perform'd, I might not sit amongst his passengers. Ere Sol had slept three nights in Thetis...
Page 165 - Did urge her resolution to be such. And princes, now behold Hieronimo, Author and actor in this tragedy, Bearing his latest fortune in his fist: And will as resolute conclude his part As any of the actors gone before. 150 And, gentles, thus I end my play: Urge no more words: I have no more to say.
Page 54 - No, no, it was some woman cried for help ; And here within this garden did she cry ; And in this garden must I rescue her. — But stay, what murd'rous spectacle is this ? A man hang'd up and all the murd'rers gone ! 10 And in my bower, to lay the guilt on me ! This place was made for pleasure, not for death.
Page 116 - Search thou the book. Had the moon shone in my boy's face, there was a kind of grace, That I know, nay I do know, had the murderer seen him, His weapon would have fallen and cut the earth, Had he been formed of naught but blood and death.
Page 86 - So I should go out Of this gear, my raiment, into that gear, the rope : But, hangman, now I spy your knavery ; I'll not change without boot, that's flat.
Page 124 - If destiny thy miseries do ease, Then hast thou health, and happy shalt thou be; If destiny deny thee life, Hieronimo, Yet shalt thou be assured of a tomb — : If neither, yet let this thy comfort be : Heav'n cov'reth him that hath no burial.

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