The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Issue 9 |
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Page 17
Why then , they are not dead : But dead they are , and , devilish slave , by thee .
Glo . I did not kill your husband . Anne . Why , then he is alive . Glo . Nay , he is
dead ; and slain by Edward ' s hand . Anne . In thy soul ' s throat thou liest ; queen
...
Why then , they are not dead : But dead they are , and , devilish slave , by thee .
Glo . I did not kill your husband . Anne . Why , then he is alive . Glo . Nay , he is
dead ; and slain by Edward ' s hand . Anne . In thy soul ' s throat thou liest ; queen
...
Page 39
Some lay in dead men ' s skulls ; and , in those holes Where eyes did once
inhabit , there were crept ( As ' twere in scorn of eyes , ) reflecting gems , That
woo ' d the slimy bottom of the deep , And mock ' d the dead bones that lay scatter
' d by .
Some lay in dead men ' s skulls ; and , in those holes Where eyes did once
inhabit , there were crept ( As ' twere in scorn of eyes , ) reflecting gems , That
woo ' d the slimy bottom of the deep , And mock ' d the dead bones that lay scatter
' d by .
Page 53
Why , madam , have I offer ' d love for this , To be so flouted in this royal presence
? Who knows not , that the gentle duke is dead ? [ They all start . You do him
injury , to scorn his corse . K . Edw . Who knows not , he is dead ! who knows he
is ?
Why , madam , have I offer ' d love for this , To be so flouted in this royal presence
? Who knows not , that the gentle duke is dead ? [ They all start . You do him
injury , to scorn his corse . K . Edw . Who knows not , he is dead ! who knows he
is ?
Page 118
Thy Edward he is dead , that kill ' d my Edward ; Thy other Edward dead , to quit
my Edward ; Young York he is but boot , because both they Match not the high
perfection of my loss . Thy Clarence he is dead , that stabb ' d my Edward ; And
the ...
Thy Edward he is dead , that kill ' d my Edward ; Thy other Edward dead , to quit
my Edward ; Young York he is but boot , because both they Match not the high
perfection of my loss . Thy Clarence he is dead , that stabb ' d my Edward ; And
the ...
Page 130
O , no , my reasons are too deep and dead ; - Too deep and dead , poor infants ,
in their graves . K . Rich . Harp not on that string , madam ; that is past . Q . Eliz .
Harp on it still shall I , till heart - strings break . K . Rich . Now , by my george , my
...
O , no , my reasons are too deep and dead ; - Too deep and dead , poor infants ,
in their graves . K . Rich . Harp not on that string , madam ; that is past . Q . Eliz .
Harp on it still shall I , till heart - strings break . K . Rich . Now , by my george , my
...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Agam Ajax Anne arms bear better blood bring brother Buck Buckingham cardinal cause Clarence comes conscience Cres Cressida dead death doth duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight follows friends Gent gentle give grace hand Hast hath head hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen highness hold honour hope hour I'll JOHNSON Kath keep king king's lady leave live look lord madam master mean mind mother Murd never night noble once Paris peace play poor pray prince queen reason Rich Richard royal SCENE soul speak stand sweet sword tell tent thank thee Ther thing thou thought tongue Troilus Troy true truth Ulyss wife York young
Popular passages
Page 259 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him . The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 349 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Page 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 271 - An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
Page 38 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Page 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Page 173 - I COME no more to make you laugh ; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Page 427 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Page 348 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!
Page 262 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Issue 9 The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, William Shakespeare |
| Author | William Shakespeare |
| Publisher | G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
| Original from | the New York Public Library |
| Digitized | 3 Jan 2007 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |