The Plays of William Shakespeare: In Twenty-one Volumes, with the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, to which are Added Notes, Volume 14

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J. Nichols and Son, 1813
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Page 325 - 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 324 - With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?
Page 322 - That, as I am a christian faithful man,' I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Page 507 - Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no, alas! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself. I am a villain. Yet I lie; I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Page 324 - Then goes he to the length of all his arm ; And with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it.
Page 200 - The bird, that hath been limed in a bush, With .trembling wings misdoubteth every bush : ,And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird, Have now the fatal object in my eye, Where my poor young was lim'd, was caught, and kill'd.
Page 217 - Yes trust them not: for there is an upstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his Tygers heart wrapt in a Players hide, supposes he is as well able to bumbast out a blanke verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Johannes fac totum, is in his owne conceit the onely Shake-scene in a countrie.
Page 206 - And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me!
Page 507 - Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What! do I fear myself? there's none else by Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here? No. Yes; I am: Then fly: what! from myself? Great reason why; Lest I revenge. What! myself upon myself? Alack! I love myself. Wherefore? for any good That I myself have done unto myself? O! no: alas! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself.
Page 272 - 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...

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