The Complete Works of William Shakespeare: With Historical and Analytical Prefaces, Comments, Critical and Explanatory Notes, Glossaries, and a Life of Shakespeare, Volume 7J. A. Hill, 1901 - English drama |
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Page 28
... dead . Ant . Sec . Mess . In Sicyon : Ant . What are you ? Where died she ? 120 Her length of sickness , with what else more serious Importeth thee to know , this bears . [ Gives a letter . Forbear me . [ Exit Sec . Messenger . There's ...
... dead . Ant . Sec . Mess . In Sicyon : Ant . What are you ? Where died she ? 120 Her length of sickness , with what else more serious Importeth thee to know , this bears . [ Gives a letter . Forbear me . [ Exit Sec . Messenger . There's ...
Page 29
... dead . Eno . Fulvia ! 160 Ant . Dead . Eno . Why , sir , give the gods a thankful sacrifice . When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him , it shows to man the tailors of the earth , comforting therein , that when ...
... dead . Eno . Fulvia ! 160 Ant . Dead . Eno . Why , sir , give the gods a thankful sacrifice . When it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man from him , it shows to man the tailors of the earth , comforting therein , that when ...
Page 33
... dead , my queen : Cleo . Look here , and at thy sovereign leisure read 60 The garboils she awaked : at the last , best ; See when and where she died . O most false love ! Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill With sorrowful water ...
... dead , my queen : Cleo . Look here , and at thy sovereign leisure read 60 The garboils she awaked : at the last , best ; See when and where she died . O most false love ! Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill With sorrowful water ...
Page 43
... dead did trespasses to Cæsar ; His brother warr'd upon him ; although , I think , Not moved by Antony . I know not , Menas , 40 How lesser enmities may give way to greater . Were ' t not that we stand up against them all , ' Twere ...
... dead did trespasses to Cæsar ; His brother warr'd upon him ; although , I think , Not moved by Antony . I know not , Menas , 40 How lesser enmities may give way to greater . Were ' t not that we stand up against them all , ' Twere ...
Page 56
... dead ! If thou say so , villain , Thou kill'st thy mistress : but well and free , If thou so yield him , there is gold , and here My bluest veins to kiss : a hand that kings . Have lipp'd , and trembled kissing . Mess . First , madam ...
... dead ! If thou say so , villain , Thou kill'st thy mistress : but well and free , If thou so yield him , there is gold , and here My bluest veins to kiss : a hand that kings . Have lipp'd , and trembled kissing . Mess . First , madam ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anon Antony and Cleopatra Antony's battle of Shrewsbury bear Brabantio Cæs Cæsar Cassio Char character Charmian Cleo conj Cyprus death Desdemona devil doth Douglas Egypt Emil Emilia Enobarbus Enter Eros Exeunt Exit eyes Falstaff farewell fear Folios fortune friends Fulvia give Glendower grace hand hath hear heart heaven Henry Henry IV honest honour horse Hotspur Iago Iago's Iras Julius Cæsar King lady Lepidus look lord madam Mark Antony Mess Messenger Michael Cassio Moor Mortimer never night noble Octavia Othello Parthia passion Percy play Plutarch Poins Pompey pray Prince Prince of Wales prithee Quarto queen Re-enter Roderigo Scene Shakespeare Sir John soldier soul speak Steevens sweet sword tell thee there's thine thou art thou hast thought to-night Venice villain wife willow word Zounds ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 41 - Out of my grief' and my impatience, — Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what ; He should, or he should not ; — for he made me mad, To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet, And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman, Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God save the mark !) And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth Was parmaceti, for an inward bruise ; And that it was great pity, so it was, That villainous salt-petre should be digg'd Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, Which many a good...
Page 116 - Yet could I bear that too ; well, very well : — But there, where I have garner'd up my heart, Where either I must live or bear no life, The fountain from the which my current runs, Or else dries up...
Page 128 - The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord ! O, wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fall'n : young boys and girls Are level now with men ; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.
Page 41 - scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, Of being taken by the insolent foe And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence And portance in my travel's history; Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven. It was my hint to speak, such was the process; And of the Cannibals that each other eat, The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads Do grow beneath their shoulders.
Page 41 - She:d come again, and with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse : which I observing, Took once a pliant hour, and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart, That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels she had something heard, But not intentively.
Page 51 - Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It...
Page 46 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks...
Page 108 - I saw young Harry, with his beaver on, His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd, Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury, And vaulted with such ease into his seat As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
Page 57 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Page 51 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them ; the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.