The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of the Poet, and Notes, Original and Selected..., Том 7Phillips, Sampson, 1851 |
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Страница 15
... dost evil . Lear . Hear me , recreant ! On thine allegiance , hear me ! — Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow , ( Which we durst never yet , ) and , with strained pride , To come betwixt our sentence and our power , ( Which ...
... dost evil . Lear . Hear me , recreant ! On thine allegiance , hear me ! — Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow , ( Which we durst never yet , ) and , with strained pride , To come betwixt our sentence and our power , ( Which ...
Страница 27
... dost stand condemned , ( So may it come ! ) thy master , whom thou lov'st , Shall find thee full of labors . 1 This line and the four following are not in the folio . Theobald observes , that they are fine in themselves , and much in ...
... dost stand condemned , ( So may it come ! ) thy master , whom thou lov'st , Shall find thee full of labors . 1 This line and the four following are not in the folio . Theobald observes , that they are fine in themselves , and much in ...
Страница 28
... dost thou profess ? thou with us ? What wouldst Kent . I do profess to be no less than I seem ; to serve him truly , that will put me in trust ; to love him that is honest ; to converse with him that is wise , and says little ; to fear ...
... dost thou profess ? thou with us ? What wouldst Kent . I do profess to be no less than I seem ; to serve him truly , that will put me in trust ; to love him that is honest ; to converse with him that is wise , and says little ; to fear ...
Страница 30
... dost thou ? Fool . Sirrah , you were best take my coxcomb . Kent . Why , fool ? Fool . Why ? For taking one's part that is out of favor ; nay , an thou canst not smile as the wind sits , 1 A metaphor from tennis . " Come in and take ...
... dost thou ? Fool . Sirrah , you were best take my coxcomb . Kent . Why , fool ? Fool . Why ? For taking one's part that is out of favor ; nay , an thou canst not smile as the wind sits , 1 A metaphor from tennis . " Come in and take ...
Страница 32
... Dost thou know the difference , my boy , between a bitter fool and a sweet fool ? Lear . [ No , lad ; teach me . Fool . That lord , that counselled thee To give away thy land , Come place him here by me , - Or do thou for him stand ...
... Dost thou know the difference , my boy , between a bitter fool and a sweet fool ? Lear . [ No , lad ; teach me . Fool . That lord , that counselled thee To give away thy land , Come place him here by me , - Or do thou for him stand ...
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art thou BENVOLIO blood Brabantio CAPULET Cassio Child Rowland Cordelia Cyprus daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost thou doth duke Edmund Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear folio reads fool Fortinbras friar Gent gentleman give Gloster GONERIL grief Hamlet hand hath hear heart Heaven Horatio Iago is't Juliet Kent king King Lear knave lady Laer Laertes Lear letter look lord madam Mantua marry matter means Mercutio Michael Cassio murder night noble Nurse o'er old copies Ophelia Othello play POLONIUS poor Pr'ythee pray quarto reads Queen Regan Roderigo Romeo SCENE Shakspeare soul speak speech Steevens sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast to-night Tybalt Verona villain wife word
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Страница 456 - Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls : Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
Страница 169 - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...
Страница 281 - I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Страница 487 - A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow, unmoving finger at! — Yet could I bear that, too; well, very well: But there, where I have garnered up my heart, Where either I must live, or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Страница 335 - Look here, upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Страница 431 - As hell's from heaven. If it were now to die, 'Twere now to be most happy; for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Страница 312 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Страница 197 - Romeo ; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, That all the world will be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish sun.
Страница 102 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Страница 349 - Excitements of my reason, and my blood, And let all sleep ? while, to my shame, I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds...