Mimic Life: Or, Before and Behind the Curtain. A Series of Narratives

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Ticknor and Fields, 1856 - 408 pages
 

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Page 40 - Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; It becomes The throned monarch better than his crown : His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice.
Page 183 - He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone, At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Page 40 - Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end both at the first, and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.
Page 184 - There's fennel for you, and columbines; there's rue for you; and here's some for me; we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy; I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died.
Page 185 - And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead; Go to thy death-bed, He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow All flaxen was his poll, He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan: God ha
Page 258 - Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long...
Page 20 - Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn; Happiest of all in that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Page 350 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Page 121 - To a babbling wanderer sent ; Like her ordinary cry, Like, but oh, how different ! Hears not also mortal life ? Hear not we, unthinking creatures ! Slaves of folly, love, or strife, Voices of two different natures...
Page 280 - Full fathom five thy father lies ; Of his bones are coral made : Those are pearls that were his eyes : Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea- change Into something rich and strange.

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