The White Devil: And, the Duchess of Malfy

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D. C. Heath, 1904 - 422 pages
 

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Page 326 - But hold some two days conference with the dead, From them I should learn somewhat I am sure I never shall know here. I'll tell thee a miracle ; I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow. Th...
Page 336 - Not a whit: What would it pleasure me to have my throat cut With diamonds ? or to be smothered With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls ? I know death hath ten thousand several doors For men to take their exits ; and 'tis found They go on such strange geometrical hinges, You may open them both ways: any way, for heaven sake, So I were out of your whispering.
Page 340 - And that was the main cause ; her marriage, That drew a stream of gall quite through my heart. For thee, as we observe in tragedies That a good actor many times is...
Page 319 - Pray, do, and bury the print of it in your heart. I will leave this ring with you for a love-token; And the hand as sure as the ring; and do not doubt But you shall have the heart too. When you need a friend, Send it to him that ow'd it; you shall see Whether he can aid you.
Page 326 - I'll tell thee a miracle ; I am not mad yet, to my cause of sorrow. Th' heaven o'er my head seems made of molten brass, The earth of flaming sulphur, yet I am not mad : I am acquainted with sad misery, As the tann'd galley-slave is with his oar ; Necessity makes me suffer constantly, And custom makes it easy.
Page 312 - I know not Which is best, to see you dead, or part with you. — Farewell, boy: Thou art happy that thou hast not understanding To know thy misery; for all our wit And reading brings us to a truer sense Of sorrow. — In the eternal church, sir, I do hope we shall not part thus.
Page 249 - Though we are eaten up of lice and worms, And though continually we bear about us A rotten and dead body, we delight To hide it in rich tissue...
Page 333 - Here is a present from your princely brothers ; And may it arrive welcome, for it brings Last benefit, last sorrow.
Page 248 - Jews' spittle, and their young children's ordure; and all these for the face. I would sooner eat a dead pigeon taken from the soles of the feet of one sick of the plague, than kiss one of you fasting.
Page 346 - JULIA. Julia. My lord, I am grown your poor petitioner, And should be an ill beggar, had I not A great man's letter here, the cardinal's, To court you in my favour.

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