CymbelineMacmillan, 1913 - 192 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 10
... hope , and in despair ; that way , past grace . Cym . That mightst have had the sole son of my queen ! Imo . O blest , that I might not ! I chose an eagle , And did avoid a puttock . 140 Cym . Thou took'st a beggar ; wouldst have made ...
... hope , and in despair ; that way , past grace . Cym . That mightst have had the sole son of my queen ! Imo . O blest , that I might not ! I chose an eagle , And did avoid a puttock . 140 Cym . Thou took'st a beggar ; wouldst have made ...
Page 22
... hope . Iach . I am the master of my speeches , and would undergo what's spoken , I swear . Post . Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond till your return . Let there be covenants 155 drawn between's . My mistress exceeds in goodness the ...
... hope . Iach . I am the master of my speeches , and would undergo what's spoken , I swear . Post . Will you ? I shall but lend my diamond till your return . Let there be covenants 155 drawn between's . My mistress exceeds in goodness the ...
Page 31
... hope he is . Iach . Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger there So merry and so gamesome . Imo . Iach . The Briton reveller . He is call'd . When he was here , He did incline to sadness , and oft - times Not knowing why . I never saw him ...
... hope he is . Iach . Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger there So merry and so gamesome . Imo . Iach . The Briton reveller . He is call'd . When he was here , He did incline to sadness , and oft - times Not knowing why . I never saw him ...
Page 32
... hope . Iach . Not he ; but yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be used more thankfully . In himself , ' tis much ; In you talents . which I account his ― - beyond all 80 Whilst I am bound to wonder , I am bound To pity too . Imo ...
... hope . Iach . Not he ; but yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be used more thankfully . In himself , ' tis much ; In you talents . which I account his ― - beyond all 80 Whilst I am bound to wonder , I am bound To pity too . Imo ...
Page 51
... hope it be not gone to tell my lord That I kiss aught but he . Pis . Imo . I hope so ; go and search . Clo . Imo . 150 " Twill not be lost . [ Exit Pisanio . ] You have abus'd me " His meanest garment ! " Ay , I said so , sir . 155 If ...
... hope it be not gone to tell my lord That I kiss aught but he . Pis . Imo . I hope so ; go and search . Clo . Imo . 150 " Twill not be lost . [ Exit Pisanio . ] You have abus'd me " His meanest garment ! " Ay , I said so , sir . 155 If ...
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Common terms and phrases
Arviragus Attendants Augustus Cæsar banish'd Belarius beseech blood Britain Britons brother Cadwal Cæsar call'd Cassibelan cave Cloten conj court Cymbeline's palace dead death do't doth Dowden Enter Cymbeline Enter Pisanio Enter Posthumus Exeunt Exit eyes false father fear fessor of English fool Gaol Gaoler garment Gent gentleman gods Guiderius hast hath hear heart heavens Holinshed honour Iach Iachimo is't Julius Cæsar Jupiter King lady leave Leonatus look lord Lud's madam master Milford-Haven mistress mother noble on't Ph.D Philario Philaster play poison'd Polydore Post pray princely prisoner Prithee Professor of Eng Professor of English Queen Re-enter ring Roman Rome SCENE Shakespeare shalt Sici speak stand sword ta'en tender thank thee there's thing thou art true turn'd villain wager What's WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON Wilt Winter's Tale
Popular passages
Page 76 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.
Page 111 - Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke ; Care no more to clothe, and eat ; To thee the reed is as the oak : The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
Page 71 - What should we speak of When we are old as you ? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December, how, In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away ? We have seen nothing...
Page 109 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...