The dramatic works of William Shakspeare. Whittingham's ed, Volume 1

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Page 25 - I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: For no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation; all men idle, all, And women too, but innocent and pure : No sovereignty— Seb.
Page 34 - O mistress mine, where are you roaming ? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know.
Page 57 - gainst my fury • Do I take part : the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further : Go, release them, Ariel ; My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, • And they shall be themselves.
Page 59 - 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.
Page 16 - You taught me language ; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : the red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Page 32 - Than the soft myrtle : but man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, — Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd, His glassy essence, — like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep ; who, with our spleens, Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Page 32 - 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.
Page 46 - O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper ; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Page xlix - A quibble is to Shakespeare, what luminous vapours are to the traveller ; he follows it at all adventures ; it is sure to lead him out of his way, and sure to engulf him in the mire.
Page 25 - All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, .Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.

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