Twelfth Night: Or, What You Will

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Clarendon Press, 1887 - 172 páginas

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Palavras e frases frequentes

Passagens conhecidas

Página 147 - Get thee glass eyes ; And, like a scurvy politician, seem To see the things thou dost not.
Página 148 - Why, man, they did make love to this employment; They are not near my conscience ; their defeat Does by their own insinuation grow : Tis dangerous, when the baser nature comes Between the pass and fell incensed points Of mighty opposites.
Página 135 - Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Página 38 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy She sat like patience on a monument, Smiling at grief.
Página 115 - Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
Página 114 - By faith Moses, when he was born, was hid three months of his parents, because they saw he was a proper child; and they were not afraid of the king's commandment.
Página 24 - Tis beauty truly blent,! whose red and white Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on...
Página 155 - Yet hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while : for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because of the word, by and by he is offended.
Página 167 - ALMIGHTY God, who hast given thine only Son to be unto us both a sacrifice for sin, and also an ensample of godly life ; Give us grace that we may always most thankfully receive that his inestimable benefit, and also daily endeavour ourselves to follow the blessed steps of his most holy life ; through the same Jesus Christ our Lord.
Página 36 - Too old by heaven: let still the woman take An elder than herself, so wears she to him; So sways she level in her husband's heart: For boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner lost and worn, Than women's are.

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