The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by Pope, Warburton and Dodd are pointed out, together with the author's life; a glossary [&c.]. |
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Seite 26
... murther thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their fwords ; look thou but sweet , And I am proof against their enmity . Jul . I would not for the world they faw thee here . Rom . I have night's cloak ...
... murther thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their fwords ; look thou but sweet , And I am proof against their enmity . Jul . I would not for the world they faw thee here . Rom . I have night's cloak ...
Seite 48
... murther'd me ; I would forget it fain . But , oh ! it preffes to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to finners ' minds ; Tybalt is dead , and Romeo banished ! That banished , that one word banished , Hath flain ten thoufand Tybalts ...
... murther'd me ; I would forget it fain . But , oh ! it preffes to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to finners ' minds ; Tybalt is dead , and Romeo banished ! That banished , that one word banished , Hath flain ten thoufand Tybalts ...
Seite 52
... murther her , as that name's curfed hand Murther'd her kinfman . - Tell me , Friar , tell me , In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my naine lodge ! tell me , that I may fack The hateful manfion . Fri. Hold thy defperate hand ...
... murther her , as that name's curfed hand Murther'd her kinfman . - Tell me , Friar , tell me , In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my naine lodge ! tell me , that I may fack The hateful manfion . Fri. Hold thy defperate hand ...
Seite 70
... murther , murther our folemnity ? O child ! O child ! My foul , and not my child ! Dead art thou ! dead ; alack ! my child is dead ; And with my child , my joys are buried . Fri. Peace , ho , for fhame ! confufion's cure lives not In ...
... murther , murther our folemnity ? O child ! O child ! My foul , and not my child ! Dead art thou ! dead ; alack ! my child is dead ; And with my child , my joys are buried . Fri. Peace , ho , for fhame ! confufion's cure lives not In ...
Seite 77
... murther'd my love's coufin ; ( with which grief , It is fuppofed , the fair creature dy'd ) ; And here is come to do fome villanous fhame To the dead bodies . I will apprehend him . Stop thy unhallow'd toil , vile Montague . Can ...
... murther'd my love's coufin ; ( with which grief , It is fuppofed , the fair creature dy'd ) ; And here is come to do fome villanous fhame To the dead bodies . I will apprehend him . Stop thy unhallow'd toil , vile Montague . Can ...
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againſt art thou Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Capulet Clown Cyprus dead death defcribed Defdemona doft doth Duke elfe Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fame Farewel father fear feem feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain fleep foliloquy fome forrow Fortinbras foul fpeak fpeech fpirit Friar Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword Gentlemen give Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honeft Horatio huſband Iago is't itſelf Juliet King Lady Laer Laertes lago Lord Madam marry Mercutio moft moſt muft murther muſt myſelf night Nurfe nurſe Ophelia Othello perfon Polonius pray prifoner Prince Queen Richard III Rodorigo Romeo SCENE ſhall ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thing thofe thou art to-night Tybalt uſed viii villain whofe wife word yourſelf
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 147 - Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ? You cannot call it love, for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment ; and what judgment Would step from this to this ? Sense, sure, you have.
Seite 133 - No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning.
Seite 27 - Would through the airy region stream so bright, That birds would sing, and think it were not night — See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Seite 105 - 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 thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Seite 177 - I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love, Make up my sum.
Seite 29 - Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.
Seite 157 - ... and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain ? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth ! \Exit.
Seite 119 - ... this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, 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 vapours.
Seite 177 - Dost thou come here to whine ? To outface me with leaping in her grave ? Be buried quick with her, and so will I : And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground, Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay, an thou'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou.
Seite 125 - I'll leave you till night; you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Giiildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' ye :—Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and '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...