The Shake-speare Drama of The Tempest: The Restoration of Man's Empire Over Nature

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Coburn Press, 1909 - 94 pages

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Page 78 - twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war : to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt ; the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar...
Page 72 - 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-capp'd 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.
Page 23 - 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.
Page 37 - Scape being drunk for want of wine. Gon. I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things. For no kind of traffic Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; Letters should not be known ; riches, poverty, And use of service, none...
Page 4 - Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground ; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! but I •would fain die a dry death.
Page 24 - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Page 37 - But thus you see we maintain a trade, not for gold, silver, or jewels, nor for silks, nor for spices, nor any other commodity of matter, but only for God's first creature, which was light ; to have light, I say, of the growth of all parts of the world.
Page 5 - 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. O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces.

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