Selected Dramas of John Dryden: With The Rehearsal

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Scott, Foresman, 1910 - 504 Seiten

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Seite 20 - Obey'd as sovereign by thy subjects be, • But know that I alone am king of me. I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran. 210 Boab. Since, then, no pow'r above your own you know, Mankind
Seite 451 - That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony, Enthron'd 1* the market-place, did sit alone, Whistling to the air, which, but for vacancy, Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, And made a gap In nature.
Seite 450 - her, nor custom stale Her Infinite variety. Other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies, for vilest things Become themselves In her, that the holy priests Bless her when she is rigglsh.
Seite 451 - fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid did. Agrippa. O, rare for Antony ! Enobarbus. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her 1' the eyes, And made their bends
Seite 233 - Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow; He who would search for pearls must dive below. Fops may have leave to level all they can; As pigmies would be glad to lop a man. Half-wits are fleas; so little and so light,
Seite 451 - kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person. It beggar'd all description: she did He In her pavilion—cloth-of-gold of tissue—
Seite 451 - on the water. The poop was beaten gold ; Purpie the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them. The oars were silver, Which to the tune of
Seite xxi - A tragi-comedy Is not so called In respect of mirth and killing, but In respect It wants deaths, which Is enough to make It no tragedy, yet brings some near It. which Is enough to make It no comedy, which must be a
Seite 134 - 10 They rose, but at their height could seldom stay. Fame then was cheap, and the first comer sped; And they have kept it since, by being dead. But, were they now to write, when critics weigh Each line, and ev'ry word, throughout a play, None of 'em, no, not Jonson in
Seite 325 - Tor. There is a pleasure, sure, In being mad, which none but madmen know! Let me indulge it; let me gaze for ever! And, since you are too great to be belov'd, Be greater, greater yet; and be ador'd. Qu. These are the words which I must only hear

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