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Page 148 - Hermione is chaste, Polixenes blameless, Camillo a true subject, Leontes a jealous tyrant, his innocent babe truly begotten ; and the king shall live •without an heir, if that, which is lost, be not found.
Page 337 - Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and howlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. ALL. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble. THIRD WITCH. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, Witches...
Page 336 - Shakespeare, had a cat named Rutterkin, as the spirit of one of those witches was Grimalkin; and when any mischief was to be done, she used to bid Rutterkin go and fly...
Page 306 - To remark the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the names and manners of different times, and the impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, and too gross for aggravation.
Page 331 - Fire. Nineteen, and all brave plump ones ; besides six lizards, and three serpentine eggs. Hec. Dear and sweet boy : what herbs hast thou ? Fire. I have some Marmartin and Mandragon. Hec. Marmaritin and Mandragora thou wouldst say. Fire.
Page 330 - Tis high time for us then. Stad. There was a bat hung at my lips three times As we came through the woods, and drank her fill.
Page 336 - As this is the chief scene of enchantment in the play, it is proper in this place to observe, with how much judgment Shakespeare has selected all the circumstances of his infernal ceremonies, and how exactly he has conformed to common opinions and traditions. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
Page 334 - Te quoque, luna, traho. Can you doubt me then, daughter, That can make mountains tremble, miles of woods walk, Whole earth's foundation bellow, and the spirits Of the entomb'd to burst out from their marbles, Nay, draw yond moon to my involv'd designs ? Fire. I know as well as can be when my mother's mad, and our great cat angry, for one spits French then, and th
Page 47 - And seeking long (alac too soone) the thing he sought, he founde. An apothecary sate unbusied at his doore, Whom by his heavy countenance he gessed to be poore.