The Plays of William Shakspeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens, with Glossorial Notes and a Sketch of the Life of Shakspeare, Volume 8Phillips, Sampson, 1854 |
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Page 26
... Pr'ythee , tell him , so much the rent of his land comes to ; he will not believe a fool . [ To Kent . Lear . A ... thee To give away tny land , Come place him here by me , - Or do thou for him stand : The sweet and bitter fool Will ...
... Pr'ythee , tell him , so much the rent of his land comes to ; he will not believe a fool . [ To Kent . Lear . A ... thee To give away tny land , Come place him here by me , - Or do thou for him stand : The sweet and bitter fool Will ...
Page 27
... Pr'ythee , nuncle , keep a school - master that can teach thy fool to lie ; I would fain learn to lie . Lear . If ... thee , nuncle ; thou hast pared thy wit o'both sides , and left nothing i'the middle : Here comes one o'the parings ...
... Pr'ythee , nuncle , keep a school - master that can teach thy fool to lie ; I would fain learn to lie . Lear . If ... thee , nuncle ; thou hast pared thy wit o'both sides , and left nothing i'the middle : Here comes one o'the parings ...
Page 33
... pr'ythee , be merry ; thy wit shall not go slip - shod . Lear . Ha , ha , ha ! Fool . Shalt see , thy other daughter will use thee kindly : for though she's as like this as a crab is like an apple , yet I can tell what I can tell . Lear ...
... pr'ythee , be merry ; thy wit shall not go slip - shod . Lear . Ha , ha , ha ! Fool . Shalt see , thy other daughter will use thee kindly : for though she's as like this as a crab is like an apple , yet I can tell what I can tell . Lear ...
Page 39
... thee , friend : Art of the house ? Kent . Ay . Stew . Where may we set our horses ? Kent . I'the mire . Stew . Pr'ythee , if thou love me , Kent . I love thee not . tell me . Stew . Why , then I care not for thee . Kent . If I had thee ...
... thee , friend : Art of the house ? Kent . Ay . Stew . Where may we set our horses ? Kent . I'the mire . Stew . Pr'ythee , if thou love me , Kent . I love thee not . tell me . Stew . Why , then I care not for thee . Kent . If I had thee ...
Page 52
... pr'ythee , daughter , do not make me mad ; I will not trouble thee , my child ; farewell : We'll no more meet , no more see one another : - But yet thou art my flesh , my blood , my daughter ; Or , rather , a disease that's in my flesh ...
... pr'ythee , daughter , do not make me mad ; I will not trouble thee , my child ; farewell : We'll no more meet , no more see one another : - But yet thou art my flesh , my blood , my daughter ; Or , rather , a disease that's in my flesh ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alack art thou Benvolio better blood Brabantio Capulet Cassio Cordelia Corn Cyprus daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost thou doth Duke Edmund Emil Emilia Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear Fool Fortinbras foul Gent gentleman give Gloster Goneril grief Guil Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven hither honest honour Horatio i'the Iago is't Juliet Kent king knave lady Laer Laertes lago Lear look lord madam Mantua marry matter Mercutio Michael Cassio Moor murder never night noble Nurse o'er Ophelia Othello poison'd Polonius poor Pr'ythee pray Queen Regan Roderigo Romeo SCENE soul speak Stew sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou dost thou hast to-night trumpet Tybalt villain What's wife wilt
Popular passages
Page 408 - 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, Oth.
Page 62 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Page 150 - 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...
Page 296 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law, but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compelled, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence.
Page 281 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus ; but use all gently ; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.
Page 282 - ... 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 15 - Thou, nature, art my goddess ; to thy law My services are bound. Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom, and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me, For that I am some twelve or fourteen moonshines Lag of a brother ? Why bastard ? wherefore base? When my dimensions are as well compact, My mind as generous, and my shape as true, As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base?
Page 333 - No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make loam, and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
Page 293 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ. Yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
Page 370 - scapes i' the imminent, deadly breach ; Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence, And portance in my travel's history, Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads touch heaven. It was my hint to speak, such was the process ; And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.