The Beauties of Shakspeare Regularly Selected from Each Play. With a General Index, Digesting Them Under Proper HeadsT. Bedlington, 1827 - 345 pages |
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Page 21
... fall in love with him : but , for my part , I love him not , nor hate him not ; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him : - For what had he to do to chide at me ? He said , mine eyes were black , and my hair black ; And ...
... fall in love with him : but , for my part , I love him not , nor hate him not ; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him : - For what had he to do to chide at me ? He said , mine eyes were black , and my hair black ; And ...
Page 32
... fall . I not deny , The jury , passing on the prisoner's life , May , in the sworn twelve , have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try : What's open made to justice , That justice seizes . What know the laws , That thieves do pass ...
... fall . I not deny , The jury , passing on the prisoner's life , May , in the sworn twelve , have a thief or two Guiltier than him they try : What's open made to justice , That justice seizes . What know the laws , That thieves do pass ...
Page 53
... falls into a cough ; And then the whole quire hold their hips , and loffe ; And waxen in their mirth , and neeze ... falling in the land , Have every peltingt river made so proud , That they have overborne their continents ; § The ox ...
... falls into a cough ; And then the whole quire hold their hips , and loffe ; And waxen in their mirth , and neeze ... falling in the land , Have every peltingt river made so proud , That they have overborne their continents ; § The ox ...
Page 54
... Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose ; And on old Hyems ' chin , an icy crown , An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is , as in a mockery , set : The spring , the summer , The childing autumn , angry winter , change Their wonted ...
... Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose ; And on old Hyems ' chin , an icy crown , An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is , as in a mockery , set : The spring , the summer , The childing autumn , angry winter , change Their wonted ...
Page 62
... falls out , That what we have we prize not to the worth , Whiles * we enjoy it ; but being lack'd and lost , Why , then we rack the value ; then we find The virtue , that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours : -So will it ...
... falls out , That what we have we prize not to the worth , Whiles * we enjoy it ; but being lack'd and lost , Why , then we rack the value ; then we find The virtue , that possession would not show us Whiles it was ours : -So will it ...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Agamemnon Ajax Antony Aposiopesis art thou banishment bear beauty blood bosom breath brows Brutus Cassius Cesar cheek Coriolanus crown curse Cymbeline dear death deed described Desdemona didst dost thou doth dream earth eyes fair fair ladies father fear fool fortune friends gentle Ghost give grief hand hang hath head hear heart heaven honour hour Iago iron tongue king kiss Lady live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd maid melancholy midnight bell mother murder nature ne'er never night noble o'er Pandarus passion Patroclus pity poor princes proud Queen revenge Richard III shame sleep soliloquy sorrow soul speak speech spirit stamp'd sweet Sycorax tears thee thine thing thou art thou hast thoughts tongue true twice-told tale unto vex'd villain virtue weep wife wind woman words young youth
Popular passages
Page 61 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Page 103 - FEAR no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages. Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o...
Page 130 - He's here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself.
Page 70 - Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean: so, o'er that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race: this is an art Which does mend nature, — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Page 17 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit ; Tu-who...
Page 127 - I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness. So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news ; and we'll talk with them too, Who loses, and who wins ; who's in, who's out ; And take...
Page 130 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come.
Page 132 - s his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.
Page 60 - twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war : to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt : the strong-bas'd promontory...
Page 102 - Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow?