The works of Shakespeare, with corrections and illustr. from various commentators

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Page 278 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past : which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Page 29 - O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see The fancy outwork nature: on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool. And what they undid, did. AGR. O, rare for Antony! ENO. Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i...
Page 237 - 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 32 - I'll none now: Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws, and as I draw them up, I'll think them every one an Antony, And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.
Page 255 - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
Page 237 - Office, and custom, in all line of order; And therefore is the glorious planet Sol In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd Amidst the other, whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad.
Page 179 - In these two princely boys! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head: and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchafd, as the rud'st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine, And make him stoop to the vale.
Page 98 - He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, There was no winter in't ; an autumn 'twas, That grew the more by reaping...
Page 104 - Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have Immortal longings in me : Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of...
Page 87 - O valiant Eros, what I should, and thou could'st not. My queen and Eros Have, by their brave instruction, got upon me A nobleness in record : But I will be A bridegroom in my death, and run into't As to a lover's bed.

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