The Vale Shakespeare, Zväzok 28

Predný obal
Hacon & Ricketts, 1902
 

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Strana xxxii - Go to your bosom ; Knock there ; and ask your heart what it doth know That's like my brother's fault ; if it confess A natural guiltiness such as is his, Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.
Strana xx - We must not make a scare-crow of the law, ' Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
Strana xliv - If I must die, I will encounter darkness as a bride, And hug it in mine arms.
Strana xxx - Alas! alas! Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took Found out the remedy.
Strana xlvi - 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 region of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling:— 'tis too horrible!
Strana xxxi - But man, proud man ! Drest in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he's most assured, 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.
Strana xci - 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.
Strana lvii - He who the sword of heaven will bear Should be as holy as severe ; Pattern in himself, to know, Grace to stand, and virtue go ; More nor less to others paying, Than by self-offences weighing.
Strana xliii - ... sleep, Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty, To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this That bears the name of life? Yet in this life Lie hid more thousand deaths; yet death we fear, That makes these odds all even.
Strana xviii - Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt...

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