Select Plays: The Tempest

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Clarendon Press, 1876 - 156 páginas

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Página 54 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Página 68 - Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please. Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair Unless I be reliev'd by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Página 120 - Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness ; And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Página 60 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I : In a cowslip's bell I lie ; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Página 17 - Ariel's song. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands : Courtsied when you have and kiss'd The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there ; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Burthen [dispersedly]. Hark, hark ! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark : Bow-wow. Ari. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. Fer. "Where should this music be? i' the air or the It sounds no more ; and, sure, it waits upon [earth?
Página 116 - The primogenitive and due of birth, Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, But by degree, stand in authentic place ? Take but degree away, untune that string...
Página 139 - I know each lane, and every alley green, Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wild wood, And every bosky bourn from side to side...
Página 143 - There are a sort of men whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond...
Página 59 - I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book.
Página 133 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...

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