The Family Shakspeare ... in which Nothing is Added to the Original Text: But Those Words and Expressions are Omitted which Cannot with Propriety be Read Aloud in a Family ...

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, 1825

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Page 252 - ... 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 252 - 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 310 - I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida. Nest. A woman of quick sense. Ulyss. Fye, fye 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 196 - 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 291 - I do not strain at the position, It is familiar ; but at the author's drift : Who, in his circumstance7, expressly proves — That no man is the lord of any thing, (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) Till he communicate his parts to others ; Nor doth he of himself know them for aught Till he behold them form'd in the applause Where they are extended ; which, like an arch, reverberates The voice again ; or like a gate of steel Fronting the sun, receives and renders back His figure and...
Page 198 - O, my lord, Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all, that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord The king shall have my service ; but my prayers For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.
Page 206 - O, father abbot, 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 117 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Page 197 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Page 199 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty.

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