The Tempest

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University Press, 1921 - 116 pagini

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Pagina 60 - Our revels now are ended... These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air, And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep..
Pagina 76 - Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Pagina 65 - gainst my fury Do I take part : the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance : they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Pagina 66 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Pagina xxiv - What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither : Ripeness is all : Come on.
Pagina xviii - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness : And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Pagina 16 - Water with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
Pagina li - This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou earnest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me ; wouldst give me Water with berries in't ; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o...
Pagina 4 - If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them : The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out.
Pagina 17 - Abhorred slave ; Which any print of goodness will not take, Being capable of all ill ! I pitied thee. Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage.

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