The Works of William Shakespeare: Life, Glossary, &c : Reprinted from the Early Editions and Compared with Recent Commentators, Volume 1F. Warne, 1875 - 1124 pages |
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Page 10
... dead ; [ of it , Whom I , with this obedient steel , three inches Can lay to bed for ever ; whiles you , doing thus , To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel , this Sir Prudence , who Should not upbraid our course ...
... dead ; [ of it , Whom I , with this obedient steel , three inches Can lay to bed for ever ; whiles you , doing thus , To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel , this Sir Prudence , who Should not upbraid our course ...
Page 11
... dead Indian . Legg'd like a man ! and his fins like arms ! Warm , o ' my troth ! I do now let loose my opinion ; hold it no longer ; this is no fish , but an islander , Ste . Four legs , and two voices ; a most that hath lately suffered ...
... dead Indian . Legg'd like a man ! and his fins like arms ! Warm , o ' my troth ! I do now let loose my opinion ; hold it no longer ; this is no fish , but an islander , Ste . Four legs , and two voices ; a most that hath lately suffered ...
Page 55
... dead , my Ethiopian ? is he dead , my Francisco ? ha , bully ! What says my scu- lapius ? my Galen ? my heart of elder ? ha ! is he dead , bully Stale ? is he dead ? Caius . By gar , he is de coward Jack priest of de vorld ; he is not ...
... dead , my Ethiopian ? is he dead , my Francisco ? ha , bully ! What says my scu- lapius ? my Galen ? my heart of elder ? ha ! is he dead , bully Stale ? is he dead ? Caius . By gar , he is de coward Jack priest of de vorld ; he is not ...
Page 74
... Dead to infliction , to themselves are dead ; And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; The baby beats the nurse , and quite athwart Goes all decorum . Fri. It rested in your grace Tunloose this tied - up justice when you pleas'd ...
... Dead to infliction , to themselves are dead ; And liberty plucks justice by the nose ; The baby beats the nurse , and quite athwart Goes all decorum . Fri. It rested in your grace Tunloose this tied - up justice when you pleas'd ...
Page 140
... dead ! [ slander liv'd . Leon . She died , my lord , but whiles her Friar . All this amazement can I qualify : When , after that the holy rites are ended , I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death : Meantime , let wonder seem familiar ...
... dead ! [ slander liv'd . Leon . She died , my lord , but whiles her Friar . All this amazement can I qualify : When , after that the holy rites are ended , I'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death : Meantime , let wonder seem familiar ...
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The Works of William Shakespeare: Life, Glossary, &C: Reprinted from the ... William Shakespeare,Laura Valentine No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
Alençon arms art thou Bardolph bear better Biron blood Boyet brother Claud Claudio cousin daughter death doth Duke duke of York Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff father fear fool Ford France gentle gentleman give grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hermia hither honour Isab Kath king knave lady Leon Leonato live look lord Lucio madam maid majesty Malvolio marry master master doctor mistress never night noble pardon peace Pedro Pist Poins Pompey pr'ythee pray prince Proteus queen Re-enter Reignier Richard Plantagenet SCENE Shal shame signior Sir John Sir John Falstaff Somerset soul speak Suffolk swear sweet sword tell thee there's thine thou art thou hast thou shalt Thurio tongue true unto villain wife wilt word York
Popular passages
Page 222 - With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws, and modern instances, And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side, His youthful hose well...
Page 472 - That those, whom you call'd fathers, did beget you! Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war! — And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding : which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit: and, upon this charge,...
Page 444 - With deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly," death itself awakes ? Can'st thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude ; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king? Then, happy low, lie down ! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Page 389 - All murder'd; for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus Comes at the last and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Page 6 - All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have ; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Page 182 - Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ; That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt...
Page 81 - To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world ; or to be worse than worst Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling ! 'tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.
Page 17 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Page 388 - Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.