The plays of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustr. of various commentators, to which are added notes by S. Johnson and G. Steevens, revised and augmented by I. Reed, with a glossarial index, Volume 11
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
ancient Anne appears bear believe better blood brother Buck Buckingham called cardinal cause Clarence copy court daughter dead death duke Earl edition editors Edward Eliz England Enter expression eyes fair fall fear folio friends Gent give given grace hand Hastings hath head hear heart heaven highness Holinshed honour hope hour Johnson King Henry King Richard king's lady leave live look lord madam Malone means mind mother Murd nature never night noble once passage perhaps person play poor pray present prince quarto queen Rich Richard Richmond royal scene seems sense sent Shakspeare Sir Thomas soul speak stand Steevens suppose tell thee thing thou thought Tower true unto Vice wife Wolsey York young
Page 297 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd : O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin.
Page 12 - 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...
Page 316 - Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little; And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Page 47 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, 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 301 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Page 182 - By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers Armed in proof, and led by shallow Richmond.
Page 302 - Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty: Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, 0 Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Page 354 - She shall be lov'd and fear'd : her own shall bless her ; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow : good grows with her In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. God shall be truly known ; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
Page 358 - To make a child, now swaddled, to proceed Man, and then shoot up in one beard and weed Past threescore years...
Page 49 - 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.