Studies in Shakespeare

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Pilgrim Press, 1916 - Dramatists, English - 220 pages
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Page 29 - I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Page 196 - I'd have you buy and sell so ; so give alms ; Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs, To sing them too : When you do dance, I wish you A wave o...
Page 156 - And let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them : for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too ; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous; and . shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
Page 198 - Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse, That no compunctious visitings of nature Shake my fell purpose...
Page 183 - The sky is changed! — and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder!
Page 131 - This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea...
Page 56 - Yet must I not give Nature all ! Thy art, My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. For though the Poet's matter Nature be His art doth give the fashion. And that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat (Such as thine are), and strike the second heat Upon the Muses...
Page 124 - Be copy now to men of grosser blood , And teach them how to war. — And you , good yeomen , Whose limbs were made in England , show us here The mettle of your pasture...
Page 178 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica : Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines' of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins : Such harmony is in immortal souls ; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close...
Page 56 - Triumph, my Britain ! thou hast one to show, To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time ! And all the Muses still were in their prime, When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm ! Nature herself was proud of his designs, And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines!

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