The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Issue 9G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Page 7
... souls of fearful adversaries , - He1 capers nimbly in a lady's chamber , To the lascivious pleasing of a lute . But I , that am not shap'd for sportive tricks , Nor made to court an amorous looking - glass ; I , that am rudely stamp'd ...
... souls of fearful adversaries , - He1 capers nimbly in a lady's chamber , To the lascivious pleasing of a lute . But I , that am not shap'd for sportive tricks , Nor made to court an amorous looking - glass ; I , that am rudely stamp'd ...
Page 8
... soul ! here Clarence comes . Enter CLARENCE , guarded , and BRAKENBURY . Brother , good day : What means this armed guard , That waits upon your grace ? Clar . His majesty , Tendering my person's safety , 8 KING RICHARD III .
... soul ! here Clarence comes . Enter CLARENCE , guarded , and BRAKENBURY . Brother , good day : What means this armed guard , That waits upon your grace ? Clar . His majesty , Tendering my person's safety , 8 KING RICHARD III .
Page 11
... love thee so , That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven , If heaven will take the present at our hands . But who comes here ? the new - deliver'd Hastings ? Enter HASTINGS . Hast . Good time of day unto KING RICHARD III . 11.
... love thee so , That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven , If heaven will take the present at our hands . But who comes here ? the new - deliver'd Hastings ? Enter HASTINGS . Hast . Good time of day unto KING RICHARD III . 11.
Page 15
... soul thou canst not have ; therefore , be gone . Glo . Sweet saint , for charity , be not so curst . Anne . Foul devil , for God's sake , hence , and trouble us not ; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell , Fill'd it with cursing ...
... soul thou canst not have ; therefore , be gone . Glo . Sweet saint , for charity , be not so curst . Anne . Foul devil , for God's sake , hence , and trouble us not ; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell , Fill'd it with cursing ...
Page 17
... soul's throat thou liest ; queen Mar- garet saw Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood ; The which thou once didst bend against her breast , But that thy brothers beat aside the point . Glo . I was provoked by her sland'rous ...
... soul's throat thou liest ; queen Mar- garet saw Thy murderous faulchion smoking in his blood ; The which thou once didst bend against her breast , But that thy brothers beat aside the point . Glo . I was provoked by her sland'rous ...
Common terms and phrases
Achilles Æne Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience Cres Cressida curse death Diomed Dorset doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen Helenus honour i'the JOHNSON Kath king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Neoptolemus Nest Nestor noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pray Priam prince queen Rich Richm Richmond royal SCENE Shakspeare sir Thomas Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan STEEVENS sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow tongue Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy trumpets Ulyss uncle unto Wolsey York
Popular passages
Page 259 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him . The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 349 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Page 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 271 - An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
Page 38 - 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 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Page 173 - I COME no more to make you laugh ; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Page 427 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Page 348 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!
Page 262 - 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...