As You Like it

Lippincott, 1890 - 452 Seiten

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Seite 209 - I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation ; nor the musician's which is fantastical ; nor the courtier's, which is proud ; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious ; nor the lawyer's, which is politic ; nor the lady's, which is nice ; nor the lover's, which is all these : but it is a melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and, indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
Seite 299 - Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Seite 110 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed...
Seite 307 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine ; And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.
Seite 62 - Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious Court ? Here feel we "but the penalty of Adam— The seasons...
Seite 121 - I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one.
Seite 210 - Now therefore, when I come to thy servant my father, and the lad be not with us; seeing that his life is bound up in the lad's life; it shall come to pass, when he seeth that the lad is not with us, that he will die : and thy servants shall bring down the gray hairs of thy- servant our father with sorrow to the grave.
Seite 262 - This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that a life was but a flower In spring time, &C.
Seite 387 - Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, ' Who ever loved that loved not at first sight ?
Seite 86 - Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home, I was in a better place : but travellers must be content.

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