An Essay on the Genius of Shakespeare: With Critical Remarks on the Characters of Romeo, Hamlet, Juliet, and Ophelia ; Together with Some Observations on the Writings of Sir Walter Scott. To which is Annexed, A Letter to Lord -----, Containing a Critique on Taste, Judgment, and Rhetorical Expression, and Remarks on the Leading Actors of the Day ...
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An Essay on the Genius of Shakespeare: With Critical Remarks on the ...
Henry Mercer Graves
No preview available - 2009
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Page 14 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
Page 60 - The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That sucked the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; That unmatched form and feature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy.
Page 140 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others.
Page 140 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Page 12 - What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself.
Page 15 - I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Page 15 - My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.
Page 21 - Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree. Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Page 39 - With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. — Soft you, now ! The fair Ophelia : — Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered.