The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fusell, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, Том 9
F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805
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ancient bear better blood CAPULET Cassio cause comes daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost doth earth Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith fall Farewell father fear follow fortune friar give gone Hamlet hand hast hath head hear heart heaven hold honest hour I'll Iago JOHNSON Juliet keep kind King lady Laer Laertes lago leave light live look lord married matter means mind Moor mother murder nature never night Nurse Othello play poor pray Queen Romeo SCENE seems seen sense signifies soul speak spirit stand stay sweet sword tell thee thing thou thou art thought true Tybalt villain watch wife young
Страница 211 - 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.
Страница 132 - 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.
Страница 193 - Get thee to a nunnery ; Why would'st thou be a breeder of sinners ? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better, my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in : What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven ! We are arrant knaves, all ; believe none of us : Go thy ways to a nunnery.
Страница 138 - That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must 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!
Страница 146 - Are most select and generous, chief in that. 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.
Страница 191 - The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
Страница 188 - I have heard That guilty creatures, sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Страница 219 - 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.
Страница 35 - But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she.