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The 'Invisible Hand' and British Fiction, 1818-1860: Adam Smith, Political Economy, and the Genre of Realism (Palgrave Studies in Nineteenth-Century Writing and Culture)

Lord Byron: Poems Selected by Paul Muldoon

English Mystery Plays (Penguin Classics)

A William Somerset Maugham Encyclopedia


















POSTHUMUS I do believe, Statist though I am none, nor like to be, That this will prove a war; and you shall hear The legions now in Gallia sooner landed In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings [20] Of any penny tribute paid. Our country-men Are men more order’d than when Julius Caesar Smil’d at their lack of skill, but found their courage Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, Now mingled with their courages, will make known [25] To their approvers they are people such That

woman feign a sickness; say She’ll home to her father; and provide me presently [75] A riding suit, no costlier than would fit A franklin’s huswife. PISANIO Madam, you’re best consider. IMOGEN I see before me, man. Nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee; [80] Do as I bid thee. There’s no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Wales. A mountainous country with a cave. Enter from the cave

was too good to be Where ill men were, and was the best of all [160] Amongst the rar’st of good ones – sitting sadly, Hearing us praise our loves of Italy For beauty that made barren the swell’d boast Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva, [165] Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, A shop of all the qualities that man Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving, Fairness which strikes the eye -- CYMBELINE I stand on

beggary of his change; but ’tis your graces [115] That from my mutest conscience to my tongue Charms this report out. IMOGEN Let me hear no more. IACHIMO O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart With pity that doth make me sick! A lady So fair, and fasten’d to an empery, [120] Would make the great’st king double, to be partner’d With tomboys hir’d with that self exhibition Which your own coffers yield! with diseas’d ventures That play with all infirmities for gold Which

mine arm. It was thy master’s; shrew me, If I would lose it for a revenue Of any king’s in Europe! I do think [145] I saw’t this morning; confident I am Last night ’twas on mine arm; I kiss’d it. I hope it be not gone to tell my lord That I kiss aught but he. PISANIO ’Twill not be lost. IMOGEN I hope so. Go and search. [Exit Pisanio. CLOTEN You have abus’d me. ‘His meanest garment’! [150] IMOGEN Ay, I said so, sir. If you will make ’t an action, call witness to ’t. CLOTEN I will

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