The plays of William Shakspeare, pr. from the text of the corrected copies left by G. Steevens and E. Malone, with a selection of notes from the most eminent commentors by A. Chalmers, Volume 8 |
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Page 267
If it be , Why seems it so particular with thee ? Ham . Seems , madam ! nay , it is ; I
know , not seems . . ' Tis not alone my inky cloak , good mother. 6 Ham . A little
more than kin , and less than kind . ] A little more than kin , is a little more than a ...
If it be , Why seems it so particular with thee ? Ham . Seems , madam ! nay , it is ; I
know , not seems . . ' Tis not alone my inky cloak , good mother. 6 Ham . A little
more than kin , and less than kind . ] A little more than kin , is a little more than a ...
Page 306
Then are our beggars , bodies ? ; and our monarchs , and outstretch ' d heroes ,
the beggars ' sha1 Then are our beggars , bodies ; ] Shakspeare seems here to
design a ridicule of those declamations against wealth and greatness , that seem
...
Then are our beggars , bodies ? ; and our monarchs , and outstretch ' d heroes ,
the beggars ' sha1 Then are our beggars , bodies ; ] Shakspeare seems here to
design a ridicule of those declamations against wealth and greatness , that seem
...
Page 308
wherefore , I know not , ) lost all my mirth , foregone all custom of exercises : and ,
indeed , it goes so heavily with my disposition , that this goodly frame , the earth ,
seems to me a steril promontory ; this most excellent canopy , the air , look you ...
wherefore , I know not , ) lost all my mirth , foregone all custom of exercises : and ,
indeed , it goes so heavily with my disposition , that this goodly frame , the earth ,
seems to me a steril promontory ; this most excellent canopy , the air , look you ...
Page 363
To my sick soul , as sin ' s true nature is , Each toy seems prologue to some great
amiss : 7 So full of artless jealousy is guilt , It spills itself , in fearing to be spilt . Re
- enter HORATIO , with OPHELIA . Oph . Where is the beauteous majesty of ...
To my sick soul , as sin ' s true nature is , Each toy seems prologue to some great
amiss : 7 So full of artless jealousy is guilt , It spills itself , in fearing to be spilt . Re
- enter HORATIO , with OPHELIA . Oph . Where is the beauteous majesty of ...
Page 442
The Moor is of a free and open nature , That thinks men honest , that but seem to
be so ; And will as tenderly be led by the nose , As asses are . I have ' t ; - it is
engender ' d : - Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world ' s light
.
The Moor is of a free and open nature , That thinks men honest , that but seem to
be so ; And will as tenderly be led by the nose , As asses are . I have ' t ; - it is
engender ' d : - Hell and night Must bring this monstrous birth to the world ' s light
.
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Common terms and phrases
ancient appears Attendants bear better blood bring Cassio cause comes daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost doth Duke Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear follow fool fortune give gone Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honest I'll Iago Juliet keep Kent kind king lady Lear leave light live look lord madam MALONE marry matter means mind Moor murder nature never night noble Nurse Othello play poor pray Queen reason Romeo SCENE seems seen sense Shakspeare soul speak stand sweet sword tears tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought true villain wife young
Popular passages
Page 399 - tis not to come ; if it be not to come, it will be now ; if it be not now, yet it will come : the readiness is all.
Page 325 - O, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of christians, nor the gait of christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Page 314 - peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? and all for nothing...
Page 112 - And, to deal plainly, I fear I am not in my perfect mind. Methinks I should know you and know this man; Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly ignorant What place this is, and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Page 286 - Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there; And.
Page 169 - But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks! It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! — Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she...
Page 339 - Tis now the very witching time of night ; When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world : Now could I drink hot blood, And do such business as the bitter day Would quake to look on.
Page 118 - I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; — And take...
Page 306 - ... this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.
Page 386 - 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?
Bibliographic information
| Title | The plays of William Shakspeare, pr. from the text of the corrected copies left by G. Steevens and E. Malone, with a selection of notes from the most eminent commentors by A. Chalmers, Volume 8 The plays of William Shakspeare, pr. from the text of the corrected copies left by G. Steevens and E. Malone, with a selection of notes from the most eminent commentors by A. Chalmers, William Shakespeare |
| Author | William Shakespeare |
| Editors | George Steevens, Edmond Malone, Alexander Chalmers |
| Published | 1823 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 19 Oct 2007 |
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