A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Hamlet, pt.1Lippincott, 1877 |
From inside the book
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Page v
... madness of Shakespearian criticism . As a general rule , in the Commentary preference is given to verbal over ęsthetic criticism . Whenever editors whose texts are collated have indulged in ęsthetic suggestions , these , in the main ...
... madness of Shakespearian criticism . As a general rule , in the Commentary preference is given to verbal over ęsthetic criticism . Whenever editors whose texts are collated have indulged in ęsthetic suggestions , these , in the main ...
Page 77
... madness of Ham . was real , not assumed ; no man in his sound senses , just after remarking that the air bites shrewdly , would inquire if it were very cold . WHITE : The reading of the F , is not entirely unworthy of consideration ...
... madness of Ham . was real , not assumed ; no man in his sound senses , just after remarking that the air bites shrewdly , would inquire if it were very cold . WHITE : The reading of the F , is not entirely unworthy of consideration ...
Page 93
... of distemper , ' III , ii , 321 ; ' His means of death , i . e . the means of his death .'- IV , v , 207. My better part of man .'- Mach . V , viii , 18 . And draw you into madness ? think of it ; ACT I , SC . iv . ] 93 HAMLET.
... of distemper , ' III , ii , 321 ; ' His means of death , i . e . the means of his death .'- IV , v , 207. My better part of man .'- Mach . V , viii , 18 . And draw you into madness ? think of it ; ACT I , SC . iv . ] 93 HAMLET.
Page 94
William Shakespeare. And draw you into madness ? think of it ; The very place puts toys of desperation , Without more motive , into every brain That looks so many fathoms to the sea 75 And hears it roar beneath . Ham . It waves me still ...
William Shakespeare. And draw you into madness ? think of it ; The very place puts toys of desperation , Without more motive , into every brain That looks so many fathoms to the sea 75 And hears it roar beneath . Ham . It waves me still ...
Page 107
... madness , which is not likely . At the same time , it is to be observed that the light and sportive sallies which follow are not absolutely out of nature , even if we suppose him sane , very powerful events not producing their natural ...
... madness , which is not likely . At the same time , it is to be observed that the light and sportive sallies which follow are not absolutely out of nature , even if we suppose him sane , very powerful events not producing their natural ...
Common terms and phrases
ABBOTT actors allusion Anon Cald CALDECOTT called CAPELL cites CLARENDON COLERIDGE Coll COLLIER Compare conj CORSON Cotgrave death DELIUS Denmark devil doth doubt dram DYCE Gloss ELZE emendation Enter Euphuism Exeunt Exit F₁ F₂ father Ghost gives Guil Guildenstern Hamlet hath heaven Horatio Huds HUNTER instances Johns JOHNSON King Ktly Laer Laertes lord Macb madness MALONE means mind misprint MOBERLY murder NARES night noble substance Ophelia Osric passage perhaps phrase play players Polonius Pope Pope+ probably Q₁ QqFf Queen reading refers Rosencrantz Rowe Rowe+ says scene seems sense Seymour Shakespeare's Sing SINGER speak speech STAUNTON Steev STEEVENS suppose sword thee Theob THEOBALD thou thought TSCHISCHWITZ verb WALKER Crit Warb WARBURTON White word Аввотт
Popular passages
Page 199 - I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil : and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, — As he is very potent with such spirits, — Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: — the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Page 397 - 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...
Page 126 - He took me by the wrist and held me hard ; 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 44 - I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!
Page 279 - 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...
Page 233 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 291 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Page 271 - 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 ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Page 25 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. HOR. So have I heard and do in part believe it. But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill...
Page 396 - Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar...