The Beauties of Shakespear: Regularly Selected from Each Play. With a General Index, Digesting Them Under Proper Heads. Illustrated with Explanatory Notes, and Similar Passages, from Ancient and Modern Authors. By William Dodd, ... In Three VolumesJ. Macgowan, 1780 |
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Сторінка 6
... thee , To thick ey'd mufing and curs'd melancholy ? In thy faint flumbers I by thee have watcht , And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars : Speak terins of manage to thy bounding steed : Cry , courage ! to the field ! and thou haft ...
... thee , To thick ey'd mufing and curs'd melancholy ? In thy faint flumbers I by thee have watcht , And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars : Speak terins of manage to thy bounding steed : Cry , courage ! to the field ! and thou haft ...
Сторінка 13
... thee dead , Bears not alive fo ftout a gentleman . If thou wert fenfible of courtefy , I should not make fo great a ... thee to heav'n ; Thy ignominy fleep with thee in the grave , But not remembered in thy epitaph . Falfaf's ...
... thee dead , Bears not alive fo ftout a gentleman . If thou wert fenfible of courtefy , I should not make fo great a ... thee to heav'n ; Thy ignominy fleep with thee in the grave , But not remembered in thy epitaph . Falfaf's ...
Сторінка 23
... thee , That thou no more wilt weigh my eye - lids down , And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? Why rather , fleep , ly'st thou in fmoaky cribs , Upon uneafy pallets ftretching thee , And hush'd with buzzing night - flies to thy flumber ...
... thee , That thou no more wilt weigh my eye - lids down , And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? Why rather , fleep , ly'st thou in fmoaky cribs , Upon uneafy pallets ftretching thee , And hush'd with buzzing night - flies to thy flumber ...
Сторінка 25
... thee , I weary thee . Doft thou fo hunger for my empty chair , That thou wilt needs inveft thee with my honours , Before thy hour be ripe ? O foolish youth ! Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee ; Stay ( 9 ) Will , & c ...
... thee , I weary thee . Doft thou fo hunger for my empty chair , That thou wilt needs inveft thee with my honours , Before thy hour be ripe ? O foolish youth ! Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee ; Stay ( 9 ) Will , & c ...
Сторінка 26
... thee gone and dig my grave thyself , And bid the merry bells ring to thy ear That thou art crowned , not that I am dead . Let all the tears that should bedew my hearfe Be drops of balm to fanctify thy head ; Only compound me with ...
... thee gone and dig my grave thyself , And bid the merry bells ring to thy ear That thou art crowned , not that I am dead . Let all the tears that should bedew my hearfe Be drops of balm to fanctify thy head ; Only compound me with ...
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againſt Ajax almoſt Beaumont and Fletcher becauſe bleffing blood bofom breaſt Brutus Cæfar Cafar Caffius death Defcription doft doth earth Euripides eyes fafe faid falfe fame fays fcene fear feems feen fenfe fhall fhew fhould flain flave fleep fmiles foldier fome fomething forrow foul fpeak fpeech fpirit friends ftill fubject fuch fure fweet fword grief hath heart heav'n himſelf honour Iago itſelf juft king Lady Lear lefs look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Mach mafter moft moſt muft murder muſt myſelf nature never night obferves occafion Othello paffage paffion perfon play pleaſure poet Prince purpoſe racter reafon rife ſays SCENE II SCENE VII ſeem Shakespear ſhall ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſtill ſtrange ſweet tears thee thefe themſelves theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art thouſand uſe Warburton whofe whoſe wife word younker
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Сторінка 85 - 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...
Сторінка 167 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Сторінка 225 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
Сторінка 85 - This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream that must for ever hide me.
Сторінка 251 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Сторінка 238 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, Such terrible impression made my dream.
Сторінка 168 - Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
Сторінка 125 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Сторінка 254 - Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs.
Сторінка 73 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.