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Memorials of Shakspeare: Or, Sketches of His Character and Genius
Перегляд фрагмента - 1972
action admiration ancient appears attention beauty brought called character circumstances considered criticism death delineation drama edition effect England English equal excellence exhibited existence expression eyes Falstaff fancy feel genius give given Hamlet hand heart human idea imagination impression interest kind king knowledge language Lear less light lived look Macbeth madness manner means merely mind moral murder nature never object observed once Ophelia original passed passion perfect perhaps person picture pieces play poet poetry possess present probably produced reader reason remarkable represented respect Richard scarcely scene seems sense Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's situation soul speak speare spirit stage story striking style taste theatre thing thou thought tion tragedy tragic true truth turn unity whole wish writers written
Сторінка 466 - He was the man who of all modern, and perhaps ancient poets, had the largest and most comprehensive soul. All the images of nature were still present to him, and he drew them not laboriously, but luckily : when he describes anything, you more than see it, you feel it too.
Сторінка 306 - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Сторінка 390 - O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form, The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
Сторінка 185 - From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
Сторінка 191 - How absolute the knave is ! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these three years I have taken note of it ; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he galls his kibe. — How long hast thou been a grave-maker? 1 Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day that our last King Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras.
Сторінка 377 - When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds, too late, that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is— to die.
Сторінка 321 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both That all the world shall...
Сторінка 326 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Сторінка 328 - Still through the hawthorn blows the cold wind ; says suum, mun ha no nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy ; sessa ! let him trot by. [Storm still. LEAK. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume.