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ancient Andronicus appears arms bear believe bring brother called character comes correction daughter dead death doth doubt dramas edition Enter expression eyes father fear folio fool friends give given gods Gower hand hast hath head hear heart heaven honour keep kind King King Henry lady Lavinia leave letter live look lord Lucius Malone Marcus Marina Mason means Measure nature never night noble observed old copies original passage performance perhaps Pericles piece play poet poor pray present prince printed prove quarto queen reason rest Rome scene seems sense Shakspeare sons speak speech stage stand Steevens suppose sweet Tale tears tell thee thing thou thought Titus translation true Tyre unto wanting wish written
Page 268 - Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods ? Draw near them then in being merciful : Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge, Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
Page 170 - And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay ; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate, That Time will come and take my love away.
Page 136 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me : I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 102 - Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: The waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled; At the voice of thy thunder they hasted away.
Page 316 - For now I stand as one upon a rock, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea ; Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Expecting ever when some envious surge Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
Page 139 - With fairest flowers Whilst summer lasts and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor The azured harebell, like thy veins, no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 198 - Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety : other women cloy The appetites they feed : but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies : for vilest things Become themselves in her; that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish.
Page 89 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.