What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
according actor amongst ancient appears associations bear believe belong Blackfriars called century character church comedy comes common Court dance daughter described doubt dramatic Earl early Elizabeth England English evidence familiar father field friends give Greene Guy's Cliff Hall hand hath held Henry Hill honour imagination John John Shakspere King land learning letter lines living London look Lord Malone Master mind nature never night NOTE observation original passage passed performed period persons play players poet poetical poetry possession present Prince probably Queen reason Richard says scarcely Scene servants Shakspere's spirit stage story Stratford tell theatre things Thomas thou thought town Warwick William Shakspere writing written young youth
Page 523 - 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.
Page 376 - Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least ; Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, — and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate ; For thy sweet love remembered, such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Page 304 - Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his tiger's heart, wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes factotum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.
Page 240 - Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Page 203 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 197 - The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And greedily devour the treacherous bait...
Page 264 - Hear him but reason in divinity, And, all-admiring, with an inward wish You would desire the king were made a prelate...
Page 263 - And hereabouts he dwells, which late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator...
Page 224 - I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta : never did I hear Such gallant chiding ; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry : I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
Page 425 - This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses. Ban. This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze.