Tales from Shakespear, by C. [and M.] Lamb, Volume 2

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Page 109 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 238 - A terrible child-bed hast thou had, my dear, No light, no fire : the unfriendly elements Forgot thee utterly ; nor have I time To give thee hallow'd to thy grave, but straight Must cast thee, scarcely coffin'd, in the ooze; Where, for a monument upon thy bones, And aye-remaining || lamps, the belching whale, And humming water must o'erwhelm thy corpse, Lying with simple shells...
Page 72 - We must not make a scare-crow of the law, ' Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
Page 7 - I know I love in vain, strive against hope; Yet in this captious and intenible sieve I still pour in the waters of my love And lack not to lose still : thus, Indian-like, Religious in mine error, I adore The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, But knows of him no more.
Page 102 - And what is her history?" said Orsino. "A blank, my lord," replied Viola: "she never told her love, but let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask cheek. She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at Grief.
Page 27 - You lie, in faith, for you are called plain Kate, And bonny Kate, and sometimes Kate the curst ; But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom, Kate of...
Page 82 - The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.
Page 254 - Helicanus, strike me, honour'd sir ; Give me a gash, put me to present pain ; Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me, O'erbear the shores of my mortality, And drown me with their sweetness.
Page 208 - twas wondrous pitiful; She wished she had not heard it, yet she wished That heaven had made her such a man; she thanked me, And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, I should but teach him how to tell my story, And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake; She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.
Page 94 - They say, best men are moulded out of faults ; And, for the most, become much more the better For being a little bad : so may my husband.

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