Plays of Edwin Booth, Volume 3

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Penn publishing Company, 1899

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Página 6 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Página 6 - The purest treasure mortal times afford Is — spotless reputation ; that away, Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
Página 44 - Fail — fail! In the lexicon of youth, which Fate reserves For a bright manhood, there is no such word As — fail!
Página 41 - The pen is mightier than the sword. Behold The arch-enchanter's wand ! itself a nothing ! But taking sorcery from the master-hand To paralyze the Caesars, and to strike The loud earth breathless ! Take away the sword ; States can be, saved without it ! (Looking on the clock.) 'Tis the hour ; Retire, sir.
Página 92 - Thro' gain and loss — thro' glory and disgrace — Along the plains, where passionate Discord rears Eternal Babel — still the holy stream Of human happiness glides on! Louis. And must we Thank for that also — our prime Minister?
Página 6 - In full-blown dignity see Wolsey stand, Law in his voice, and fortune in his hand ; To him the church, the realm, their...
Página 6 - A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay, And o'er-informed the tenement of clay...
Página 75 - I dare not brave you! I do but speak the orders of my King. The church, your rank, power, very word, my lord, Suffice you for resistance: blame yourself If it should cost you power! RICHELIEU. That my stake. Ah, Dark gamester, what is thine? Look to it well! Lose not a trick.
Página 67 - ... of grief, My heart is bursting. Nature must have way. I will perform all that a Roman should— I cannot feel less than a father ought!
Página 5 - Well ! this love, Vain, frantic, guilty, if thou wilt, became A fountain of ambition and bright hope : I thought of tales that by the winter hearth Old gossips tell — how maidens, sprung from Kings, Have stooped from their high sphere ; how Love, like Death, Levels all ranks, and lays the shepherd's crook Beside the sceptre.

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