The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected: with Notes, Explanatory and Critical:H. Lintott, C. Hitch, J. and R. Tonson, C. Corbet, R. and B. Wellington, J. Brindley, and E. New., 1740 |
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Стр. 33
... murther thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their fwords ; look thou but fweet , And I am proof against their enmity . .. Jul . I would not for the world , they faw thee here . Rom . I have night's ...
... murther thee . Rom . Alack ! there lies more peril in thine eye , Than twenty of their fwords ; look thou but fweet , And I am proof against their enmity . .. Jul . I would not for the world , they faw thee here . Rom . I have night's ...
Стр. 59
... murther'd me ; I would forget it , fain ; But , oh ! it preffes to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to finners ' minds ; Tybalt is dead , and Romeo banished ! That banished , that one word banished , Hath flain ten thousand Tybalts ...
... murther'd me ; I would forget it , fain ; But , oh ! it preffes to my memory , Like damned guilty deeds to finners ' minds ; Tybalt is dead , and Romeo banished ! That banished , that one word banished , Hath flain ten thousand Tybalts ...
Стр. 63
... murther her , as that name's curfed hand weeps ; Murther'd her kinfman . - Tell me , Friar , tell me , In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge ? tell me , that I may fack The hateful manfion . Fri. Hold thy desperate hand ...
... murther her , as that name's curfed hand weeps ; Murther'd her kinfman . - Tell me , Friar , tell me , In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge ? tell me , that I may fack The hateful manfion . Fri. Hold thy desperate hand ...
Стр. 83
... murther , murther our Solemnity ? O Child ! O Child ! My Soul , and not my Child ! Dead art Thou ! dead ; alack ! my Child is dead ; And , with my Child , my Joys are buried . Fri. Peace , ho , for Shame ! Confufion's Cure lives not ...
... murther , murther our Solemnity ? O Child ! O Child ! My Soul , and not my Child ! Dead art Thou ! dead ; alack ! my Child is dead ; And , with my Child , my Joys are buried . Fri. Peace , ho , for Shame ! Confufion's Cure lives not ...
Стр. 91
... murther'd my love's coufin ; ( with which grief , It is fuppofed , the fair Creature dy'd , ) And here is come to do fome villanous fhame To the dead bodies : I will apprehend him . Stop thy unhallow'd toil , vile Montague : Can ...
... murther'd my love's coufin ; ( with which grief , It is fuppofed , the fair Creature dy'd , ) And here is come to do fome villanous fhame To the dead bodies : I will apprehend him . Stop thy unhallow'd toil , vile Montague : Can ...
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againſt Benvolio Brabantio Caffio Capulet cauſe Clown Cyprus dead dear death Desdemona doth Duke Emil Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair Farewel father feem feen felf felves fhall fhew fhould flain fleep fome Fortinbras foul fpeak Friar Friar Lawrence ftand ftill fuch fure fweet fword Gentlemen Ghoft give Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honeft honour Horatio houſe Iago ibid is't Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago loft look lord Madam marry Mercutio moft Moor morrow moſt muft murther muſt night Nurfe Nurſe Ophelia Othello Perfon Play pleaſe Polonius pray Quarto Queen reaſon Richard Rodorigo Romeo ſelf ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art Tybalt uſe Venice villain whofe wife William Shakespeare
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Стр. 191 - How stand I then, That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see, The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? O, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
Стр. 212 - I loved Ophelia; forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love Make up my sum.
Стр. 114 - Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she, — O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourn'd longer, — married with my uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules...
Стр. 119 - Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel ; but being in, Bear't, that the opposed may beware of thee.
Стр. 172 - ... 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.
Стр. 153 - With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?
Стр. 161 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Стр. 24 - Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, Then dreams he of another benefice; Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes; And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, And sleeps again.
Стр. 190 - What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Стр. 246 - This to hear Would Desdemona seriously incline: But still the house affairs would draw her thence; Which ever as she could with haste despatch, She'd come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse : which I observing, Took once a pliant hour; and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart...