Characters of Shakespeare's PlaysWiley and Putnam, 1845 - 229 pages |
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Page 9
... death - blow which had been struck at scarlet vice and bloated hypocrisy loosened their tongues , and made the talis- mans and love - tokens of Popish superstition , with which she had beguiled her followers and committed abominations ...
... death - blow which had been struck at scarlet vice and bloated hypocrisy loosened their tongues , and made the talis- mans and love - tokens of Popish superstition , with which she had beguiled her followers and committed abominations ...
Page 11
... death , that unspeakable instance of humility and love , " above all art , all meanness , and all pride ; " and in the leave he took of them on that occasion , " My peace I give unto you : that peace which the world cannot give , give I ...
... death , that unspeakable instance of humility and love , " above all art , all meanness , and all pride ; " and in the leave he took of them on that occasion , " My peace I give unto you : that peace which the world cannot give , give I ...
Page 25
... death of her lover , Ferrex : " Ah ! noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed , Shining in armour bright before the tilt And with thy mistress ' sleeve tied on thy helm , And charge thy staff ...
... death of her lover , Ferrex : " Ah ! noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed , Shining in armour bright before the tilt And with thy mistress ' sleeve tied on thy helm , And charge thy staff ...
Page 26
... Death Flat on the ground , and still as any stone , A very corps , saue yeelding forth a breath . Small keepe tooke he whom Fortune frowned on , Or whom she lifted vp into the throne Of high renowne , but as a liuing death , So dead ...
... Death Flat on the ground , and still as any stone , A very corps , saue yeelding forth a breath . Small keepe tooke he whom Fortune frowned on , Or whom she lifted vp into the throne Of high renowne , but as a liuing death , So dead ...
Page 27
... Death's dore , Fumbling and driueling as he draws his breath , For briefe , the shape and messenger of Death . " John Lyly ( born in the Weald of Kent about the year 1553 ) , was the author of Midas and Endymion , of Alexander and ...
... Death's dore , Fumbling and driueling as he draws his breath , For briefe , the shape and messenger of Death . " John Lyly ( born in the Weald of Kent about the year 1553 ) , was the author of Midas and Endymion , of Alexander and ...
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Characters of Shakespeare's Plays: & Lectures on the English Poets William Hazlitt No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
admiration affections Beaumont and Fletcher beauty Ben Jonson blood breath Cæsar Caliban character comedy comic Coriolanus critic CYMBELINE D'Ol death delight Desdemona dost doth dramatic Duke effeminacy Endymion equal Eumenides eyes Falstaff fancy fear feeling fire fool fortune friends genius give grace GUIDERIUS hand hast hath hear heart heaven Henry honour human Iago imagination interest Jonson king kiss Lear learning live look lord Macbeth MALVOLIO manner MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM mind moral nature never night noble Othello passages passion person pity play pleasure poet poetical poetry pride prince quincunxes racters rich Richard II scene seems Sejanus sense sentiment Shak Shakspeare Shakspeare's sleep soul speak speech spirit striking style sweet taste tell tender thee things thou art thought tion Titus Andronicus tragedy true truth unto virtue words writers youth
Popular passages
Page 24 - Would he were fatter. — But I fear him not. Yet if my name were liable to fear, I do not know the man I should avoid So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much ; He is a great observer, and he looks Quite through the deeds of men.
Page 144 - Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Page 114 - Indian mount, or fairy elves, Whose midnight revels, by a forest side, Or fountain, some belated peasant sees, Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance Intent, with jocund music charm his ear ; At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Page 68 - A tower'd citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen these signs; They are black vesper's pageants. EROS. Ay, my lord. ANTONY. That which is now a horse, even with a thought The rack dislimns; and makes it indistinct, As water is in water.
Page 105 - ... we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon and the stars : as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion ; knaves, thieves and treachers, by spherical predominance ; drunkards, liars and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence ; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on : an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star...
Page 163 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Page 210 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods...
Page 34 - Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please, Resolve me of all ambiguities, Perform what desperate enterprise I will? I'll have them fly to India for gold, Ransack the ocean for orient pearl, And search all corners of the new-found world For pleasant fruits and princely delicates...
Page 159 - Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant...
Page 101 - O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.