The Knight of Our Burning Pestle

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H. Holt, 1908 - 309 頁

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第 152 頁 - Stain my man's cheeks! — No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things, — What they are, yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think, I'll weep; No, I'll not weep: — I have full cause of weeping ; but this heart Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws, Or ere I'll weep: — O, fool, I shall go mad!
第 154 頁 - Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings...
第 107 頁 - Afric of the other, and so many other under-kingdoms that the player, when he cometh in, must ever begin with telling where he is ; or else the tale will not be conceived. Now ye shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a garden. By and by we hear...
第 184 頁 - A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs?
第 xix 頁 - Their plays are now the most pleasant and frequent entertainments of the stage; two of theirs being acted through the year for one of Shakespeare's or Jonson's...
第 233 頁 - It was anciently the custom for all ranks of people to go out a maying on the first of May. It is on record that King Henry VIII. and Queen Katharine partook of this diversion" (STEEVENS): "Stowe says, that, 'in the month of May, namely, on May-day in the morning, every man, except impediment, would walk into the sweet meadows and green woods ; there to rejoice their spirits with the beauty and savour of sweet flowers, and with the noise [ie music] of birds, praising God in their kind.
第 163 頁 - A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade, For and a shrouding sheet : O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet.
第 46 頁 - Tis mirth that fills the veins with blood, More than wine, or sleep, or food ; Let each man keep his heart at ease ; No man dies of that disease. He that would his body keep From diseases, must not weep ; But whoever laughs and sings, Never he his body brings Into fevers, gouts, or rheums, Or lingeringly his lungs consumes, Or meets with aches " in the bone, Or catarrhs or griping stone ; But contented lives for aye ; The more he laughs, the more he may.

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