The Dramatic Works, Volume 1 |
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Page 142
To the rest : -Yet my chief huThere my Lysander and myself shall meet : mour is
for a tyrant : I could play Ercles rarely , And thence , from Athens , turn away our
eyes , or a part to tear a cat in , to make all split . To seek new friends and
stranger ...
To the rest : -Yet my chief huThere my Lysander and myself shall meet : mour is
for a tyrant : I could play Ercles rarely , And thence , from Athens , turn away our
eyes , or a part to tear a cat in , to make all split . To seek new friends and
stranger ...
Page 143
You can play no part but Pyramus : for Call'd Robin Good - fellow : are you not he
, Pyramus is a sweet - faced man ; a proper man , as That fright the maidens of
the villagery ; one shall see in a summer's day ; a most lovely , Skim milk ; and ...
You can play no part but Pyramus : for Call'd Robin Good - fellow : are you not he
, Pyramus is a sweet - faced man ; a proper man , as That fright the maidens of
the villagery ; one shall see in a summer's day ; a most lovely , Skim milk ; and ...
Page 156
More than to us ' scaped sixpence a - day ; an the duke had not given Wait on
your royal walks , your board , your bed . him sixpence a - day for playing
Pyramus , I'll be The . Come now ; what masks , wbat dances shall hanged ; he
would ...
More than to us ' scaped sixpence a - day ; an the duke had not given Wait on
your royal walks , your board , your bed . him sixpence a - day for playing
Pyramus , I'll be The . Come now ; what masks , wbat dances shall hanged ; he
would ...
Page 253
What think you , if he were convey'd to bed , There is a lord will hear you play to -
night : Wrapp'd in sweet clothes , rings put upon his fingers , But I am doubtful of
your modesties ; A most delicious banquet by his bed , Lest , over - eying of his ...
What think you , if he were convey'd to bed , There is a lord will hear you play to -
night : Wrapp'd in sweet clothes , rings put upon his fingers , But I am doubtful of
your modesties ; A most delicious banquet by his bed , Lest , over - eying of his ...
Page 277
Come , sir page , Play too ; but so disgrac'd a part , whose issue Look on me with
your welkin * eye : Sweet villain ! Will hiss me to my grave ; contempt and
clamour Most dear'st ! my collop ! -- Can thy dam ? —may ' . Will be my knell .
Come , sir page , Play too ; but so disgrac'd a part , whose issue Look on me with
your welkin * eye : Sweet villain ! Will hiss me to my grave ; contempt and
clamour Most dear'st ! my collop ! -- Can thy dam ? —may ' . Will be my knell .
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The Dramatic Works: From the Test of Johnson, Stevens, and Reed, with ... William Shakespeare No preview available - 2015 |
Dramatic Works: From the Text of Johnson, Stevens and Reed William Shakespeare No preview available - 2015 |
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Popular passages
Page 207 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Page 444 - That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, • And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, ) That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry,...
Page 19 - Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air : And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on ; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Page 211 - Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and...
Page 417 - 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 deafning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes ? Canst thou, O partial sleep!
Page 334 - I have lived 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 183 - How like a fawning publican he looks! I hate him for he is a Christian : But more for that, in low simplicity, He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
Page 327 - The times have been That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end ; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools.
Page 21 - I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds And '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 Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd and let 'em forth By my so potent Art.
Page 371 - All murder'd : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Dramatic Works, Volume 1 The Dramatic Works, William Shakespeare |
| Author | William Shakespeare |
| Published | 1831 |
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