Shakespeare's Comedy of Measure for Measure

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J.M. Dent, 1894 - 143 páginas

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Página 54 - Be absolute for death ; either death, or life, Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life : — If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep : a breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences, That dost this habitation, where thou keep'st, Hourly afflict.
Página 39 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet ; For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; nothing but thunder.
Página 57 - Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life shouldst entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar'st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Página 37 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: How would you be, If he, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are? O, think on that; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Página 10 - From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty : As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scope by the immoderate use Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue, Like rats that ravin down their proper bane, A thirsty evil ; and when we drink we die.
Página 37 - Well, believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does.
Página 60 - tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Página 79 - Take, O, take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn ; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, bring again ; Seals of love, but seal'd in vain, seal'd in vain.
Página 126 - Isabel, Sweet Isabel, do yet but kneel by me : Hold up your hands, say nothing, I '11 speak all. They say, best men are moulded out of faults, And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad : so may my husband . O Isabel ! will you not lend a knee ? Duke.
Página 59 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world...

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