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I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
read more
I told you, sir, they were redhot with drinking;
So full of valor that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces, beat the ground,
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project.
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into read more
Soon as the potion works, their human count'nance,
Th' express resemblance of the gods, is chang'd
Into some bruitish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat,
All other parts remaining as they were;
And they, so perfect in their misery,
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement.
He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with read more
He that is drunken . . .
Is outlawed by himself; all kind of ill
Did with his liquor slide into his veins.
I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as read more
I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a
drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would
stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and
presently a beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is unblest,
and the ingredient is a devil.
In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the read more
In vain I trusted that the flowing bowl
Would banish sorrow, and enlarge the soul.
To the late revel, and protracted feast,
Wild dreams succeeded, and disorder'd rest.
Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns read more
Ha! see where the wild-blazing Grog-Shop appears,
As the red waves of wretchedness swell,
How it burns on the edge of tempestuous years
The horrible Light-House of Hell!
Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]
Drunkenness is nothing but voluntary madness.
[Lat., Nihil aliud est ebrietas quam voluntaria insania.]
. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown read more
. . . And when night
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.
(King Ferdinand:) In love, I hope--sweet fellowship in shame!
(Berowne:) One drunkard loves another of the name.