The Plays of William Shakespeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Volume 17C. and A. Conrad & Company, 1809 |
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Page 10
... Sweet cell of virtue and nobility , How many sons of mine hast thou in store , That thou wilt never render to me more ? Luc . Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths , That we may hew his limbs , and , on a pile , Ad manes fratrum ...
... Sweet cell of virtue and nobility , How many sons of mine hast thou in store , That thou wilt never render to me more ? Luc . Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths , That we may hew his limbs , and , on a pile , Ad manes fratrum ...
Page 11
... Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge ; Thrice - noble Titus , spare my first - born son . Tit . Patient yourself , 9 madam , and pardon me . These are their brethren , whom you Goths beheld Alive , and dead ; and for their brethren ...
... Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge ; Thrice - noble Titus , spare my first - born son . Tit . Patient yourself , 9 madam , and pardon me . These are their brethren , whom you Goths beheld Alive , and dead ; and for their brethren ...
Page 17
... sweet Lavinia . - Romans , let us go : Ransomeless here we set our prisoners free : Proclaim our honours , lords , with trump and drum . Bas . Lord Titus , by your leave , this maid is mine . [ Seizing LAV . Tit . How , sir ? Are you in ...
... sweet Lavinia . - Romans , let us go : Ransomeless here we set our prisoners free : Proclaim our honours , lords , with trump and drum . Bas . Lord Titus , by your leave , this maid is mine . [ Seizing LAV . Tit . How , sir ? Are you in ...
Page 21
... sweet Mutius , with thy friends , Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb ! - All . No man shed tears for noble Mutius ; 2 He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause . Mar. My lord , —to step out of these dreary dumps , * How comes it ...
... sweet Mutius , with thy friends , Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb ! - All . No man shed tears for noble Mutius ; 2 He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause . Mar. My lord , —to step out of these dreary dumps , * How comes it ...
Page 22
... sweet , pardon what is past . Sat. What ! madam ! be dishonour'd openly , And basely put it up without revenge ? Tam . Not so , my lord ; The gods of Rome forefend , I should be author to dishonour you ! 4 play'd your prize ; ] A ...
... sweet , pardon what is past . Sat. What ! madam ! be dishonour'd openly , And basely put it up without revenge ? Tam . Not so , my lord ; The gods of Rome forefend , I should be author to dishonour you ! 4 play'd your prize ; ] A ...
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Common terms and phrases
Aaron ancient Antiochus Bassianus Bawd Boult brother Cerimon Cleon Confessio Amantis Coriolanus corrupt Cymbeline daughter dead death Demetrius Dionyza doth dramas dramatick edition editor emendation emperor Enter Exeunt Exit expression eyes father folio Gesta Romanorum give gods Goths Gower Hamlet hand hath heart heaven Helicanus honour King Henry King Lear lady Lavinia live lord Lucius Lychorida Lysimachus Macbeth Malone Marcus Marina Mason means metre mistress murder musick never night noble Noble Kinsmen old copies read Othello passage Pentapolis perhaps Pericles piece play poet Prince of Tyre queen revenge rhyme Rome Romeo and Juliet Saturninus scene sense Shakspeare Shakspeare's Simonides sons sorrow speak speech Steevens suppose sweet Tamora tears tell Thaisa Tharsus thee thine thou art thou hast thought Titus Andronicus Todd tongue Twine's translation unto Winter's Tale word
Popular passages
Page 195 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Page 193 - Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: The waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled; At the voice of thy thunder they hasted away.
Page 149 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.
Page 250 - And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state...
Page 273 - Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety : other women cloy The appetites they feed : but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies : for vilest things Become themselves in her; that the holy priests Bless her when she is riggish.
Page 288 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 247 - tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, Carry them here and there ; jumping o'er times ; Turning the accomplishment of many years Into an hour-glass...