Specimens of English Dramatic Poets who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare: With NotesWiley & Putnam, 1845 - 466 страници |
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Страница 10
... thou take it ? art thou not sometime mad ? Is there no tricks that come before thine eyes ? Pain . O lord , yes , sir . Hier . Art a painter ? canst paint me a tear , a wound ? A groan or a sigh ? canst paint me such a tree as this ...
... thou take it ? art thou not sometime mad ? Is there no tricks that come before thine eyes ? Pain . O lord , yes , sir . Hier . Art a painter ? canst paint me a tear , a wound ? A groan or a sigh ? canst paint me such a tree as this ...
Страница 11
... thou draw a murd'rer ? Pain . I'll warrant you , sir ; I have the pattern of the most notorious villains that ever lived in all Spain . Hier . O , let them be worse , worse : stretch thine art , And let their beards be of Judas's own ...
... thou draw a murd'rer ? Pain . I'll warrant you , sir ; I have the pattern of the most notorious villains that ever lived in all Spain . Hier . O , let them be worse , worse : stretch thine art , And let their beards be of Judas's own ...
Страница 15
... Art thou now pleas'd ? Or wert thou now disturb'd ? I'll wage all Spain To one sweet kiss , this is some new device To make me fond and long . Oh , you men Have tricks to make poor women die for you . Eleaz . What , die for me ? Away ...
... Art thou now pleas'd ? Or wert thou now disturb'd ? I'll wage all Spain To one sweet kiss , this is some new device To make me fond and long . Oh , you men Have tricks to make poor women die for you . Eleaz . What , die for me ? Away ...
Страница 24
... thou art fondly led , They pass not for thy frowns as late they did , But seek to make a new - elected king ; Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts , Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments , And in this torment ...
... thou art fondly led , They pass not for thy frowns as late they did , But seek to make a new - elected king ; Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts , Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments , And in this torment ...
Страница 27
... art thou come ? Light . To rid thee of thy life ; Matrevis , come . Edw . I am too weak and feeble to resist : Assist me , sweet God , and receive my soul . [ This tragedy is in a very different style from " mighty Tamburlaine . " The ...
... art thou come ? Light . To rid thee of thy life ; Matrevis , come . Edw . I am too weak and feeble to resist : Assist me , sweet God , and receive my soul . [ This tragedy is in a very different style from " mighty Tamburlaine . " The ...
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Alaham blessing blood Bonduca breath brother Cæsar Calica Carracus Clor Corb court curse dare dead dear death dost doth Duch Duke earth eyes fair father Faustus fear fortune Fran FRANCIS BEAUMONT give grief hand happy hate hath hear heart heaven hell honor hope Jacin JAMES SHIRLEY JOHN FLETCHER JOHN MARSTON JOHN WEBSTER King kiss kneel lady leave live look lord lov'd Madam methinks Moth mother ne'er Nennius never night noble Ovid pardon passion PHILIP MASSINGER pity pleasure poison poor pray Queen revenge Shakspeare shame sister sorrow soul speak spirit sweet sword Tamburlaine tears tell thee there's thine things THOMAS HEYWOOD THOMAS MIDDLETON thou art thou hast thoughts thyself tongue TRAGEDY true twas unto Violanta virtue weep what's whilst wife WILLIAM ROWLEY Witch woman
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Страница 32 - All things that move between the quiet poles Shall be at my command : emperors and kings Are but obeyed in their several provinces, Nor can they raise the wind or rend the clouds ; But his dominion that exceeds in this Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man, A sound magician is a mighty god : Here, Faustus, tire thy brains to gain a deity.
Страница 33 - I'll have them read me strange philosophy And tell the secrets of all foreign kings; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift Rhine circle fair Wittenberg; I'll have them fill the public schools with silk...
Страница 174 - Yes, as rocks are, When foamy billows split themselves against Their flinty ribs ; or as the moon is moved, When wolves, with hunger pined, howl at her brightness.
Страница 108 - Why, gentle boy, I find no fault at all In thy behaviour. Bel. Sir, if I have made A fault in ignorance, instruct my youth : I shall be willing, if not apt, to learn ; Age and experience will adorn my mind With larger knowledge ; and if I have done A wilful fault, think me not past all hope For once. What master holds so strict a hand Over his boy, that he will part with him Without one warning ? Let me be corrected, To break my stubbornness, if it be so, Rather than turn me off; and I shall mend.
Страница 30 - He surfeits on the cursed necromancy. Nothing so sweet as magic is to him, Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss, And this the man that in his study sits.
Страница 102 - Do my face (If thou had'st ever feeling of a sorrow) Thus, thus, Antiphila : strive to make me look Like Sorrow's monument ; and the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless ; let the rocks Groan with continual surges ; and behind me, Make all a desolation.
Страница 34 - O, 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' metempsychosis, were that true, This soul should fly from me, and I be changed Unto some brutish beast.
Страница 167 - In those unsightly rings - then 'twas a face So far beyond the artificial shine Of any woman's bought complexion, That the uprightest man (if such there be That sin but seven times a day) broke custom, And made up eight with looking after her. O, she was able to ha...
Страница 84 - For I do mean To have a list of wives and concubines, Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me ; and I will make me a back With the elixir, that shall be as tough As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.
Страница 34 - 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! O lente, lente currite, noctis equi!© The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd.