The Pictorial edition of the works of Shakspere, ed. by C. Knight. [8 vols., including a vol. entitled William Shakspere, by C. Knight]. [8 vols. The vol. containing the biogr. is of the 3rd ed.]., Parte172,Volúmenes1-2 |
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Página vi
... Sword - belts or Hangers " .. ... 166 166 167 Choppines 126 ............... SUPPLEMENTARY NOTICE . ACT III . Kronberg Castle . G. F. SARGENT .. " The herald Mercury " .. ........ 128 140 Kemble as Hamlet , from Sir T. Lawrence ...
... Sword - belts or Hangers " .. ... 166 166 167 Choppines 126 ............... SUPPLEMENTARY NOTICE . ACT III . Kronberg Castle . G. F. SARGENT .. " The herald Mercury " .. ........ 128 140 Kemble as Hamlet , from Sir T. Lawrence ...
Página 14
... sword , ho ! La . Cap . A crutch , a crutch ! -Why call you for a sword ? Cap . My sword , I say ! -Old Montague is come , And flourishes his blade in spite of me . Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE . Mon. Thou villain Capulet ! -Hold me ...
... sword , ho ! La . Cap . A crutch , a crutch ! -Why call you for a sword ? Cap . My sword , I say ! -Old Montague is come , And flourishes his blade in spite of me . Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE . Mon. Thou villain Capulet ! -Hold me ...
Página 15
... sword prepar'd ; Which , as he breath'd defiance to my ears , He swung about his head , and cut the winds , Who , nothing hurt withal , hiss'd him in scorn : While we were interchanging thrusts and blows , Came more and more , and ...
... sword prepar'd ; Which , as he breath'd defiance to my ears , He swung about his head , and cut the winds , Who , nothing hurt withal , hiss'd him in scorn : While we were interchanging thrusts and blows , Came more and more , and ...
Página 43
... sword and cried , - ' Ho ! No more , up pain of losing of your head ; By mighty Mars , he shall anon be dead That smiteth any stroke that I may seen ! But telleth me what mistere men ye been , That be so hardy for to fighten here ...
... sword and cried , - ' Ho ! No more , up pain of losing of your head ; By mighty Mars , he shall anon be dead That smiteth any stroke that I may seen ! But telleth me what mistere men ye been , That be so hardy for to fighten here ...
Página 46
... sword out of his pilcher by the ears ? make haste , lest mine be about your ears ere it be out . Tyb . I am for you . [ Drawing . Rom . Gentle Mercutio , put thy rapier up . Mer . Come , sir , your passado . [ They fight . Rom . Draw ...
... sword out of his pilcher by the ears ? make haste , lest mine be about your ears ere it be out . Tyb . I am for you . [ Drawing . Rom . Gentle Mercutio , put thy rapier up . Mer . Come , sir , your passado . [ They fight . Rom . Draw ...
Términos y frases comunes
Achilles Ajax Alcibiades Antony Apem Apemantus Banquo blood Brutus Cæsar called Cassio copy Coriolanus Cres Cressida Cymbeline daughter dead dear death Desdemona dost doth edition Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear folio follow fool friends give gods Hamlet hand hath hear heart heaven Hector honour Iach Iago ILLUSTRATIONS OF ACT Juliet Julius Cæsar Kent king lady Lear look lord Macb Macbeth Macd madam Malone Marcius Mark Antony means nature never night noble Nurse original Othello Pandarus passage play poet Polonius poor pray quarto Queen Roman Rome Romeo Romeo and Juliet SCENE senate servant Shakspere Shakspere's soul speak speech stand Steevens sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art thou hast thought Timon Troilus Troilus and Cressida Tybalt Ulyss unto villain word
Pasajes populares
Página 127 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Página 424 - Stain my man's cheeks !— No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things — What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth. You think...
Página 155 - Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell...
Página 87 - 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!
Página 122 - What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her ? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have ? He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Página 54 - 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.
Página 16 - Hath borne his faculties so meek," hath been . So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off : And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, hors'd Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
Página 104 - That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth ! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month, Let me not think on't: Frailty, thy name is woman!
Página 122 - O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd...
Página 129 - O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows, and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod: Pray you, avoid it.