The Hamnet Shakspere, according to the first folio, spelling modernised, with remarks on Shakspere's use of capital letters in his manuscript, and a few notes by A.P. Paton, Part 2 |
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Page xxvii
... look for the motes , and hundreds appear to take pleasure in insisting upon the misprints and confusions of punctuation in the First Folio , which become small indeed to such as are intimate with the astonishing care and particularity ...
... look for the motes , and hundreds appear to take pleasure in insisting upon the misprints and confusions of punctuation in the First Folio , which become small indeed to such as are intimate with the astonishing care and particularity ...
Page 2
... Look where it comes again . Enter the Ghost . Barn . In the same figure , like the King that's dead . Mar. Thou art a Scholar ; speak to it Horatio . Barn . Looks it not like the King ? Mark it Horatio . Hora . Most like : It harrows me ...
... Look where it comes again . Enter the Ghost . Barn . In the same figure , like the King that's dead . Mar. Thou art a Scholar ; speak to it Horatio . Barn . Looks it not like the King ? Mark it Horatio . Hora . Most like : It harrows me ...
Page 3
... look pale : Is not this something more than Fantasy ? What think you on't ? Hor . Before my God , I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes . Mar. Is it not like the King ? Hor . As thou art to thy ...
... look pale : Is not this something more than Fantasy ? What think you on't ? Hor . Before my God , I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes . Mar. Is it not like the King ? Hor . As thou art to thy ...
Page 5
... look , the Morn in Russet mantle clad , Walks o'er the dew of yon high Eastern Hill , Break we our Watch up , and by my advice Let us impart what we have seen to night Unto young Hamlet . For upon my life , This Spirit dumb to us , will ...
... look , the Morn in Russet mantle clad , Walks o'er the dew of yon high Eastern Hill , Break we our Watch up , and by my advice Let us impart what we have seen to night Unto young Hamlet . For upon my life , This Spirit dumb to us , will ...
Page 8
... look like a Friend on Denmark . Do not for ever with thy veiled lids Seek for thy Noble Father in the dust ; Thou know'st ' tis common , all that lives must die , Passing through Nature , to Eternity . Ham . Ay Madam , it is common ...
... look like a Friend on Denmark . Do not for ever with thy veiled lids Seek for thy Noble Father in the dust ; Thou know'st ' tis common , all that lives must die , Passing through Nature , to Eternity . Ham . Ay Madam , it is common ...
Common terms and phrases
ALLAN PARK Ape of Death Ay my Lord Barnardo blood breath Cæsar Coriolanus Daughter dead dear Denmark Desdemona Dost thou doth drink e'en Earth Edition of Macbeth Emphasis-Capitals Enter Hamlet Enter King Enter Polonius Exeunt Exit eyes Farewell Fathers death fear Folio follow fool Fortinbras foul Friends Gertrude Ghost give Grace Guil Guild Guildensterne Hamnet Edition hast hath hear heart Heaven Hecuba Hell hold Horatio i'th in't is't Laer Laertes look Lord Hamlet Majesty Marcellus Mother Murther Nature night Noble Norway o'er Ophe Ophel Ophelia Osricke Othello passion Play Players poison'd Polon pray Priam Pyrrhus Queen Revenge Reynol Rosin Rosincrance Shakspere Shakspere's shew sleep speak speech Spirit sweet Sword tell Text thee There's thine thing thought tongue Tragedy Tragedy of Macbeth twere Villain weole words
Popular passages
Page xii - Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood...
Page xvi - I, as ^Eneas, our great ancestor, Did, from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder, The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber, Did I the tired Caesar : and this man Is now become a god ; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body. If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
Page 8 - Nor the dejected haviour of the Visage, Together with all Forms, Moods, shews of Grief, That can denote me truly. These indeed Seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that Within, which passeth show; These, but the Trappings, and the Suits of woe.
Page xiv - Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title ! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
Page x - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Page xiii - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Page 67 - You cannot call it love ; for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment...
Page 20 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine...
Page 15 - Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy : For the apparel oft proclaims the man...
Page 51 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.