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, Band 15

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Seite 53 - What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness...
Seite 29 - Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. O most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets, It is not nor it cannot come to good; But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
Seite 137 - And let those, that play your clowns, speak no more than is set down for them:' for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though, in the mean time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous; and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
Seite 181 - O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn And reason panders will. Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more! Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul, And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave their tinct.
Seite 23 - Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play : But I have that within, which passeth show; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
Seite 87 - Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Seite 136 - ... 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.
Seite 162 - 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...
Seite 29 - That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly— heaven and earth Must 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! A little month or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body Like Niobe all tears, why she, even she — O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason...
Seite 202 - Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal, and unsure To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell.

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