 Wysłany: Sob 7:43, 12 Mar 2011 Temat postu: |On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedablmds |
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| Cries 'Excellent! 'tis Agamemnon just.
Now play me Nestor; hem, and stroke thy beard, As he being drest to some oration.' That's done-as near as the extremest ends Of parallels, as like Vulcan and his wife; Yet god Achilles still cries 'Excellent! 'Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Patroclus, Arming to answer in a night alarm.' And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age Must be the scene of mirth: to cough and spit And, with a palsy-fumbling on his gorget, Shake in and out the rivet. And at this sport Sir Valour dies; cries 'O, enough, Patroclus; Or give me ribs of steel! I shall split all In pleasure of my spleen.' And in this fashion All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, Severals and generals of grace exact, Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, Excitements to the field or speech for truce, Success or loss, what is or is not, serves As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. NESTOR. And in the imitation of these twain- Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns With an imperial voice-many are infect. Ajax is grown self-will'd and bears his head In such a rein, in full as proud a place As byilai： skechers mbt shoes clearance louis vuitton outlet jordan heels for women |On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Publishedabmavr |
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