The tale of the man of lawe, The pardoneres tale, The second nonnes tale, The chanouns yemannes tale, ed. by W.W. Skeat

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1877 - 276 страница

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Страница ix - ON EARLY ENGLISH PRONUNCIATION, with especial reference to Shakspere and Chaucer.
Страница 119 - To knitte vp al this feste, and make an ende. And lesu, for his grace, wit me sende To shewe yow the wey, in this viage, Of thilke perfit glorious pilgrimage io That hyghte Jerusalem celestial.
Страница 185 - And giving him solution ; then congeal him ; And then dissolve him ; then again congeal him : For look, how oft I iterate the work So many times I add unto his virtue. As, if at first one ounce convert a hundred, After his second loose, he'll turn a thousand ; His third solution, ten ; his fourth, a hundred ; After his fifth, a thousand thousand ounces Of any imperfect metal, into pure Silver or gold, in all examinations, 390 As good as any of the natural mine.
Страница 166 - Di Caritade, e giuso intra i mortali « Se' di speranza fontana vivace. « Donna, se' tanto grande, e tanto vali, « Che qual vuol grazia, ea Te non ricorre, « Sua disianza vuol volar senz'ali.
Страница 53 - For soothly thou art oon of his assent, To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef...
Страница 45 - The holy writ take I to my witnesse, That luxurie is in wyn and dronkenesse. Lo, how that dronken Loth, unkindely, Lay by his doghtres two, unwitingly; So dronke he was, he niste what he wroghte.
Страница 47 - How greet labour and cost is thee to finde ! Thise cokes, how they stampe, and streyne, and grind And turnen substaunce in-to accident, To fulfille al thy likerous talent! Out of the harde bones knokke they The mary, for they caste noght a-wey That may go thurgh the golet softe and swote...
Страница 195 - Are flown in fumo,' every glass is burst ; Furnace and all rent down, as if a bolt Of thunder had been driven through the house. Retorts, receivers, pelicans,' bolt-heads,* All struck in shivers ! (SUBTLE falls down as in a swoon.) Help, good sir ! alas, Coldness and death invades him.
Страница 53 - And on the ground, which is my modres gate, I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late, And seye, 'leve moder, leet me in! Lo, how I vanish, flesh, and blood, and skin!

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