Shakespeare's Comedy As You Like it

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His Majesty's Theatre, 1907 - 105 pages
 

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Page 43 - 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.
Page 46 - This wide and universal theatre Presents more woeful pageants than the scene Wherein we play in. Jaq. All the world 'sa stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages.
Page 48 - Although thy breath be rude. Heigh, ho ! sing, heigh, ho ! unto the green holly : Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly Then, heigh, ho, the holly ! This life is most jolly.
Page 44 - Invest me in my motley ; give me leave To speak my mind, and I will through and through Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, If they will patiently receive my medicine.
Page 34 - 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.
Page 73 - Grecian club; yet he did what he could to die before, and he is one of the patterns of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being taken with the cramp was drowned: and the foolish coroners of that age found it was ' Hero of Sestos. ' But these are all lies: men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Page 32 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Page 46 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Page 40 - Come, shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me, the poor dappled fools,— Being native burghers of this desert city, — Should, in their own confines, with forked heads Have their round haunches gor'd.
Page 24 - O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed!

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