The Plays of William Shakespeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Volume 11C. and A. Conrad, 1808 |
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Page 19
... heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the death of thee , Than I can wish to adders , spiders , toads , Or any ...
... heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the death of thee , Than I can wish to adders , spiders , toads , Or any ...
Page 22
... heart can think thee , thou canst make No excuse current , but to hang thyself . Glo . By such despair , I should accuse myself . Anne . And , by despairing , shalt thou stand excus'd ; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself , That didst ...
... heart can think thee , thou canst make No excuse current , but to hang thyself . Glo . By such despair , I should accuse myself . Anne . And , by despairing , shalt thou stand excus'd ; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself , That didst ...
Page 25
... heart sues , and prompts my tongue to speak . [ She looks scornfully at him . 1 they kill me with a living death . ] In imitation of this pas sage , and , I suppose , of a thousand more , Pope writes : 66 a living death I bear , " Says ...
... heart sues , and prompts my tongue to speak . [ She looks scornfully at him . 1 they kill me with a living death . ] In imitation of this pas sage , and , I suppose , of a thousand more , Pope writes : 66 a living death I bear , " Says ...
Page 26
... heart cannot forgive , Lo ! here I lend thee this sharp - pointed sword ; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast , And let the soul forth that adoreth thee , I lay it naked to the deadly stroke , And humbly beg the death upon ...
... heart cannot forgive , Lo ! here I lend thee this sharp - pointed sword ; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast , And let the soul forth that adoreth thee , I lay it naked to the deadly stroke , And humbly beg the death upon ...
Page 27
... heart ; Wear both of them , for both of them are thine . And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand , Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever . Anne . What is it ? Glo . That it may please you leave ...
... heart ; Wear both of them , for both of them are thine . And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand , Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever . Anne . What is it ? Glo . That it may please you leave ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient Anne archbishop Ben Jonson blood brother Buck Buckingham called cardinal Cates Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience crown curse daughter death devil doth Duch duke Earl Earl of Richmond editors Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fear folio friends Gent gentle gentleman give Gloster grace Hanmer hath heart heaven Henry VIII Holinshed holy honour Johnson Kath King Henry King Henry VI King Richard King Richard III king's lady live Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovel madam Malone Mason means mother Murd never night noble Norfolk old copy passage person play Polydore Virgil pray prince quarto queen Rape of Lucrece Ratcliff Rich Richmond Ritson royal scene Shakspeare Sir Thomas Sir Thomas Hanmer soul speak Stan Stanley Steevens tell thee Theobald thou Tower unto Vice Warburton Wolsey word York
Popular passages
Page 293 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd : O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin.
Page 12 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Page 312 - Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Page 209 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Page 11 - But I— that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass— I— that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph...
Page 47 - Upon the hatches : thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us.
Page 49 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, — Such terrible impression made my dream.
Page 177 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Page 298 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr...
Page 297 - O my lord! Must I then, leave you? must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master? Bear witness all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. The king shall have my service; but my prayers For ever and for ever, shall be yours.