The Dramatic Works of John Webster: The white devil. The duchess of Malfi

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J. Smith, 1857
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第 246 頁 - To move a horror skilfully, to touch a soul to the quick, to lay upon fear as much as it can bear, to wean and weary a life till it is ready to drop, and then step in with mortal instruments to take its last forfeit : this only a Webster can do. Inferior geniuses may 'upon horror's head horrors accumulate,
第 282 頁 - em, than should one Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow; As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts, Both form and matter. I have ever thought Nature doth nothing so great for great men As when she's pleas'd to make them lords of truth : Integrity of life is fame's best friend, Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end.
第 176 頁 - twill multiply love there. You do tremble : Make not your heart so dead a piece of flesh, To fear more than to love me. Sir, be confident : What is 't distracts you ? This is flesh and blood, sir ; 'Tis not the figure cut in alabaster Kneels at my husband's tomb. Awake, awake, man ! I do here put off all vain ceremony, And only do appear to you a young widow That claims you for her husband, and, like a widow, I use but half a blush in 't.
第 232 頁 - He doth present you this sad spectacle, That, now you know directly they are dead, Hereafter you may wisely cease to grieve For that which cannot be recovered.
第 243 頁 - Let me see it: I have so much obedience in my blood, I wish it in their veins to do them good.
第 140 頁 - And thou so near the bottom : false report, Which says that women vie with the nine Muses, For nine tough durable lives ! I do not look Who went before, nor who shall follow me ; No, at myself I will begin and end. While we look up to heaven, we confound Knowledge with knowledge.
第 227 頁 - I know not which is best, To see you dead, or part with you. - Farewell, boy : Thou art happy that thou hast not understanding To know thy misery; for all our wit And reading brings us to a truer sense Of sorrow. - In the eternal church, sir, I do hope we shall not part thus.
第 182 頁 - Bos. Give me leave to be honest in any phrase, in any compliment whatsoever. Shall I confess myself to you ? I look no higher than I can reach : they are the gods that must ride on winged horses. A lawyer's mule of a slow pace will both suit my disposition and business; for, mark me, when a man's mind rides faster than his horse can gallop, they quickly both tire. Ant. You would look up to heaven, but I think The devil, that rules i' the air, stands in your light.
第 242 頁 - Didst thou ever see a lark in a cage ? Such is the soul in the body : this world is like her little turf of grass ; and the heaven o'er our heads like her looking-glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge of the small compass of our prison.
第 126 頁 - Pray, get fresh , I would have these herbs grow up in his grave When I am dead and rotten. Reach the bays ; I'll tie a garland here about his head ; 'Twill keep my boy from lightning.

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