As You Like it

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Gresham, 1905 - 122 Seiten
 

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Seite 60 - With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon.
Seite 59 - tis to pity and be pitied, Let gentleness my strong enforcement be : In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.
Seite 111 - It is to be all made of fantasy, All made of passion, and all made of wishes; All adoration, duty, and observance, All humbleness, all patience and impatience, All purity, all trial, all observance; And so am I for Phebe.
Seite 55 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Seite 23 - They say, he is already in the forest of Arden, and a many merry men with him ; and there they live like the old Robin Hood of England. They say, many young gentlemen flock to him every day ; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world.
Seite 60 - And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress
Seite 60 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players : They have their exits and their entrances ; And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Seite 60 - With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Seite 48 - Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I : when I was at home, I was in a better place : but travellers must be content.
Seite 47 - 11 light upon some settled low content. Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. From seventeen years till now almost fourscore Here lived I, but now live here no more. At seventeen years many their fortunes seek, But at fourscore it is too late a week ; Yet fortune cannot recompense me better Than to die well, and not my master's debtor.

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