Notes and Emendations to the Text of Shakespeare's Plays: From Early Manuscript Corrections in a Copy of the Folio, 1632, in the Possession of J. Payne Collier ...
Whittaker and Company, 1853 - 512 pages
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according afterwards altered amended Antony Apemantus appears authority blunder Caesar Cleopatra compositor conjecture copyist Coriolanus corrected folio corruption Costard couplet Cymbeline defective doubt Duke editors emendation Enter epithet erased error evident exclaims eyes Falstaff father give Guiderius Hamlet hath heaven hemistich Henry Iachimo Iago Imogen impressions inserted instance Italic type Johnson King Lady last line letter lines lower lord Macbeth Malone manuscript stage-direction manuscript-corrector margin meaning merely misheard misprint mistake modern editions necessary never observes occurs old copies old corrector omitted Othello passage perhaps play poet poet's Prince printed copies printer probably proposed quartos and folios Queen remarks restored rhyme says SCENE I. P. scribe second folio second line seems sense sentence set right Shakespeare speaking speech spelt stage stands Steevens strange struck subsequent substituted supposed syllables tells thee Theobald thou tion verse Warburton word written
Page 425 - You cannot call it love; for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this?
Page 398 - And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Page 171 - DUKE'S PALACE. [Enter DUKE, CURIO, LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.] DUKE. If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die.— That strain again;— it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.— Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Page 413 - I have liv'd long enough : my way of life Is fall'n into the sear , the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age , As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but , in their stead , Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny , and dare not.
Page 422 - 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.
Page 105 - We, Hermia, like two artificial gods Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key, As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds Had been incorporate. So we grew together Like to a double cherry, seeming parted But yet an union in partition...
Page 410 - I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me : Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches ; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders...
Page 441 - Behold yond simpering dame, whose face between her forks presages snow, that minces virtue, and does shake the head to hear of pleasure's name: the fitchew nor the soiled horse goes to't with a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above. But to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the fiends'.
Page 257 - A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers...
Page 440 - Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens' plagues Have humbled to all strokes : that I am wretched Makes thee the happier : — heavens, deal so still ! Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly ; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough.