The Plays and Poems of Shakespeare,: According to the Improved Text of Edmund Malone, Including the Latest Revisions, : with a Life, Glossarial Notes, an Index, and One Hundred and Seventy Illustrations, from Designs by English Artists, Том 14
Henry G. Bohn, 1844
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affection Attendants bear believe better blood bring Cassio cause Clown comes daughter dead dear death Desdemona devil dost doth Duke duty Emilia Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith fall Farewell father fear follow fortune Ghost give grace Guil Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hold honest honor Horatio husband Iago keep King lady Laer Laertes leave light live look lord lost madness marry matter means mind Moor mother murder nature never night noble once Ophelia Othello play Polonius poor pray Queen reason Roderigo SCENE seen sense soul speak speech spirit stand sure sweet sword tell thank thee thing thou thought to-night true villain watch wife young
Сторінка 80 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin?
Сторінка 16 - It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, No fairy takes ', nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Сторінка 63 - O God, I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
Сторінка 39 - I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Сторінка 75 - I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore. Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — 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, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ?...
Сторінка 65 - ... this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a steril 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.
Сторінка 85 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Сторінка 101 - Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world : now could I drink hot blood, And do such bitter business as the day Would quake to look on.
Сторінка 31 - Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all, — to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Сторінка 126 - 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. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw, When honour's at the stake.