Shakespeare's Insomnia and the Causes Thereof

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1886 - 64 páginas
 

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Página 14 - Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And, in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king ? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Página 19 - But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams, That shake us nightly...
Página 12 - To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
Página 63 - tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Página 14 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! — O Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness ? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ; Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great...
Página 20 - Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep" — the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care; The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast — Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried "Sleep no more!
Página 20 - Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday.
Página 14 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge...
Página 13 - Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow ? O polish'd perturbation ! golden care ! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night...
Página 20 - Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep ; Sleep, that knits up the ravelled sleave* of care, The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast ; — Lady M.

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