The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb: Dramatic specimens and the Garrick plays

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Methuen & Company, 1904

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Page 590 - I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Page 30 - tis the soul of peace : Of all the virtues, 'tis nearest kin to heaven ; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e'er wore earth about him, was a sufferer; A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit : The first true gentleman, that ever breathed.
Page 592 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Hark! now I hear them, — ding-dong, bell.
Page 170 - Call for the robin redbreast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm, And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm : But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Page 123 - The names, and some of the properties which the other author has given to his hags, excite smiles. The Weird Sisters are serious things. Their presence cannot co-exist with mirth. But, in a lesser degree, the witches of Middleton are fine creations. Their power too is, in some measure, over the mind. They raise jars, jealousies, strifes, ' like a thick scurf
Page 609 - O good old man ; how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed ! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, Where none will sweat, but for promotion; And having that, do choke their service up Even with the having: it is not so with thee.
Page 245 - Why? Do you think I fable with you? I assure you. He that has once the flower of the sun, The perfect ruby which we call elixir, Not only can do that, but by its virtue, Can confer honour, love, respect, long life, Give safety, valour: yea, and victory, To whom he will. In eight and twenty days, I'll make an old man of fourscore, a child.
Page 247 - For I do mean To have a list of wives and concubines Equal with Solomon, who had the stone Alike with me ; and I will make me a back With the elixir that shall be as tough As Hercules, to encounter fifty a night.
Page 122 - Shakspeare have neither child of their own, nor seem to be descended from any parent. They are foul Anomalies, of whom we know not whence they are sprung, nor whether they have beginning or ending. As they are without human passions, so they seem to be without human relations.
Page 157 - Come, violent death, Serve for mandragora, to make me sleep: Go, tell my brothers, when I am laid out, They then may feed in quiet.

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