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Academici adeo alia aliquando aliud animi animo arbitror caufa certe comedia conftat cujus denique dramate dramatici dramatis eadem effe effet eodem eorum erit eſt Etenim etfi fabula fæpe fane fatis femper fere fibi fieri fint five folet folum fuiffe funt genere gratia hæc hanc hifce homines hominum hujufmodi ifta iftis iftud igitur illa illam ille illi illis illud illum imagines ingenii ingenium inquit ipfa ipfe Itaque locum magis maxime mihi minus multa naturæ naturam neque nifi nihil nimirum nomine nonnunquam nullo nunc oculis omni omnibus omnino omnium parte pene plerumque poeta poetæ poetarum poetica poetis poffe porro potiffimum potius præ præcipue profecto propter prorfus quæ quædam quafi quicquid quin quis quorum quos ratio ratione rebus rerum tamen tanquam tantum verum videtur δὲ καὶ ὡς
Seite 239 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Seite 230 - Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Seite 251 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...
Seite 256 - Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in And bade him follow; so indeed he did. The torrent...
Seite 254 - I remember when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home.
Seite 254 - But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
Seite 302 - No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
Seite 236 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: — I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not , fatal vision , sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?