Materials for the Study of the Old English Drama, Volume 37

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Librairie universitaire, Uystpruyst, 1913
 

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Page 97 - Pyrrhae nova monstra questae, omne cum Proteus pecus egit altos visere montes, piscium et summa genus haesit ulmo, nota quae sedes fuerat columbis, et superiecto pavidae natarunt aequore dammae.
Page 104 - SIDGWICK, FRANK. Popular Ballads of the Olden Time. Edited by F. Sidgwick. To be completed in four series. Fcap. 8vo. Price 3s. 6d. net per series. SERIES I. — Ballads of Romance and Chivalry. [Ready. SERIES II. — Ballads of Mystery and Miracle and Fyttes of Mirth. [Ready. SERIES III. — Ballads of Scotch Tradition and Romance. [Ready. SERIES IV. — Ballads of Robin Hood, and other Outlaws.
Page 97 - ... to break, as imitating that orderly disorder which is common in nature. In front of this sea were placed six Tritons', in moving and sprightly actions, their upper parts human, save that their hairs were blue, as partaking of the sea-colour: their desinent parts fish, mounted above their heads, and all varied in disposition.
Page 82 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's...
Page 88 - The close stock ! O mortal wench ! Lady, ha' ye now no restoratives for your decayed Jasons? Look ye, crab's guts baked, distilled ox-pith, the pulverized hairs of a lion's upper-lip, jelly of cocksparrows, he-monkey's marrow, or powder of foxstones ? And whither are all you ambling now ? Bianca. To bed, to bed. Malevole. Do your husbands lie with ye ? Bianca. That were country fashion, i
Page 75 - Gainst these, have we put on this forced defence : Whereof the allegory and hid sense Is, that a well erected confidence Can fright their pride, and laugh their folly hence. Here now, put case our author should, once more, Swear that his play were good ;' he doth implore, You would not argue him of arrogance...
Page 82 - Care-charmer sleep, son of the sable night, Brother to death, in silent darkness born, Relieve my languish and restore the light; With dark forgetting of my care, return And let the day be time enough to mourn The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth; Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn Without the torment of the night's untruth. Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires...
Page 86 - To the true general patron of all Muses, Musicians, Poets, and Picture-drawers, SIR CHRISTOPHER CLUTCHFIST, knighted at a very hard pennyworth, neither for eating musk-melons, anchovies, or caviare, but for a costlier exploit and a hundred-pound^- feat of arms...

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