A New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare: Hamlet, pt.1Lippincott, 1877 |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 49
Сторінка viii
... comes a translation of a curious old German tragedy called Fratricide Punished , or Prince Hamlet of Denmark . account of it will be found in a short prefatory note . Then come the English Critics , and a discussion of the one great ...
... comes a translation of a curious old German tragedy called Fratricide Punished , or Prince Hamlet of Denmark . account of it will be found in a short prefatory note . Then come the English Critics , and a discussion of the one great ...
Сторінка ix
... comes the German Criticism . With the rashness of ignorance , the present Editor , in laying out his plan for this edition , proposed to himself to preface it with an essay upon the remarkable literature which this great drama has ...
... comes the German Criticism . With the rashness of ignorance , the present Editor , in laying out his plan for this edition , proposed to himself to preface it with an essay upon the remarkable literature which this great drama has ...
Сторінка xv
... comes in as an element , we are subject to SHAKESPEARE'S glamour and gramarye . Horatio is introduced to us as one famil- iar with all the every - day occurrences in Denmark , the gossip of the court , the cause of the post haste and ...
... comes in as an element , we are subject to SHAKESPEARE'S glamour and gramarye . Horatio is introduced to us as one famil- iar with all the every - day occurrences in Denmark , the gossip of the court , the cause of the post haste and ...
Сторінка xvi
... comes into play , and we get the impression that Laertes has just landed and has rushed in hot haste to the King's palace . And so vivid is this impression that Laertes is always held up by critics and commentators as an example to ...
... comes into play , and we get the impression that Laertes has just landed and has rushed in hot haste to the King's palace . And so vivid is this impression that Laertes is always held up by critics and commentators as an example to ...
Сторінка 8
... comes again ! 40 33. sit we ] let's Q'76 . 36 . When ] Whon F2 . yond ] yon FF4 36 , 41. that's ] thats QqF . 36. westward ] weastward QQ 37 . to illume ] Steev . t'illume QQ , QFf , Rowe + , Cap . Jen . Coll . Sing . El . White , Ktly ...
... comes again ! 40 33. sit we ] let's Q'76 . 36 . When ] Whon F2 . yond ] yon FF4 36 , 41. that's ] thats QqF . 36. westward ] weastward QQ 37 . to illume ] Steev . t'illume QQ , QFf , Rowe + , Cap . Jen . Coll . Sing . El . White , Ktly ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
ABBOTT actors allusion Anon Cald CALDECOTT called CAPELL cites CLARENDON COLERIDGE Coll COLLIER Compare conj CORSON Cotgrave death DELIUS Denmark devil doth doubt dram DYCE Gloss ELZE emendation Enter Euphuism Exeunt Exit expression F₂ father Ghost gives Guil Guildenstern Hamlet hath heaven Horatio Huds HUNTER instances Johns JOHNSON King Ktly Laer Laertes lord Macb madness MALONE means mind misprint MOBERLY murder NARES nature night noble substance Ophelia Osric passage perhaps phrase play players Polonius Pope Pope+ probably Q₂Q3 QqFf Queen reading refers Rosencrantz Rowe Rowe+ says scene seems sense Seymour Shakespeare's Sing SINGER speak speech STAUNTON Steev STEEVENS suppose sword thee Theob THEOBALD thou thought TSCHISCHWITZ verb WALKER Crit Warb WARBURTON White word
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 199 - I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil : and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, — As he is very potent with such spirits, — Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds More relative than this: — the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Сторінка 397 - No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth...
Сторінка 126 - He took me by the wrist and held me hard ; Then goes he to the length of all his arm, And with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it.
Сторінка 44 - 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!
Сторінка 279 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law...
Сторінка 233 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Сторінка 291 - See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Сторінка 271 - 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 ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Сторінка 25 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit dare 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. HOR. So have I heard and do in part believe it. But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill...
Сторінка 396 - Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar...