Archiv für das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, Volym 31–33

Framsida
Westermann, 1862
Vols. for 1858- include "Sitzungen der Berliner Gesellschaft für das Studium der neuren Sprachen."
 

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Sida 73 - tis strange : And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths ; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence Cousins, a word, . I pray you.
Sida 194 - But here's a parchment with the seal of Caesar ; I found it in his closet ; 'tis his will : Let but the Commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood...
Sida 331 - Haste me to know it, that I, with wings as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.
Sida 430 - To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing...
Sida 197 - Sir, I will not be so hard-hearted ; I will give out divers schedules of my beauty: It shall be inventoried; and every particle, and utensil...
Sida 163 - Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
Sida 429 - Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; Happiest of all is, that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Sida 190 - Tell me, my daughters (Since now we will divest us both of rule, Interest of territory, cares of state), Which of you shall we say doth love us most? That we our largest bounty may extend Where nature doth with merit challenge.
Sida 173 - For I'll refer me to all things of sense, If she in chains of magic were not bound, Whether a maid so tender, fair, and happy, So opposite to marriage that she shunn'd The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, Would ever have, to incur a general mock. Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom 70 Of such a thing as thou — to fear, not to delight.
Sida 330 - Still harping on my daughter : yet he knew me not at first ; he said I was a fishmonger : he is far gone, far gone : and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love ; very near this.

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