Shakespeare's Play of a Midsummer Night's Dream: With Historical and Explanatory Notes, Collected from Various Authorities

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O.A. Roorbach, 1863 - 59 páginas
 

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Página 24 - CHORUS. Philomel, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby; Lnlla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby: Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, Come our lovely lady nigh; So good night, with lullaby. 1st Fat. Weaving spiders, come not here; Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence: Beetles black, approach not near; Worm, nor snail do no offence.
Página 52 - the poet, Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can holdThat is the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy
Página 29 - will walk up and down here, and I will sing, that they shall hear I am not afraid. [Sings. The ousel-cock,* so black of hue, With orange-tawney bill, The throstle^ with his note so true, The -wren with little quill. Tit. What angel wakes me from my flowery bed
Página 53 - That you should here repent you, The actors are at hand; and, by their show, You shall know all, that you are like to know. The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. His speech was like a tangled chain; nothing impaired, but all disordered. Who is next? Enter PYKAMUS and
Página 48 - And all the faith, the virtue of my heart, The object, and the pleasure of mine eye, Is only Helena. The. Fair lovers, you are fortunately met : Of this discourse we more will hear anon. — Egeus, I will overbear your will ; For in the temple, by and by, with us, These couples shall eternally be knit.
Página 19 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moones sphere ; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green :* The cowslips tall, her pensioners be, In their gold
Página 38 - Her. What love could press Lysander from my side ? Lys. Lysander's love-, that would not let him bide; Fair Helena, who more engilds the night Than all yon fiery oes* and eyes of light. Why seek'st thou me ? could not this make thee know The hate 1 bear thee made me leave thee so ? Her.
Página 39 - drooping fog, as black as Acheron; And lead these testy rivals so astray, As one come not within another's way ; Till o'er their brows death-counterfeiting Sleep, With leaden legs and batty wings doth creep: Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye ; When they next wake, all this derision Shall seem a dream and fruitless vision;
Página 20 - you he ? I am that merry wanderer of the night. I jest to Oberon, and make him smile, And sometimes lurk I in a gossip's bowl, In very likeness of a roasted crab ;|| And, when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And, on her wither'd dew-lap pour the ale.
Página 22 - The more you beat me, I will fawn on you! Use me but as your spaniel, spurn me, strike me, Neglect me, lose me ; only give me leave, Unworthy as 1 am, to follow you. Dem. Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit, For I am sick when I do look on thee.

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