...and GVIL. . Ham, Ay, *o, God be wi' you: — Now I am alone. O, what a rogae and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in...in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to bis own conceit, That, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction...

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...recite a speech in a public hall and the cue being given, is immediately carried out of himself, — " Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect A broken...whole function suiting With forms to his conceit." Acting is wholly imaginative. In the faculty of readily incrtine the imagination to a degree that produces...

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...GUILDENSTERN. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in...fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul to his own conceit, That from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's...

...Guildenstern. Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' you : — Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in...his visage wann'd; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? And all for...

...of comparing the actions of his characters to a theatrical exhibition. P. 364.— 279.— 147. Ham. Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in...conceit, That from her working, all his visage wann'd. I prefer warm'd, the reading of the folio, to wann'd, the reading of the quarto. P. 367.— 282.—...

...a distinction in the style of it, from that which prevails generally in the tragedy itself. 156. " Is it not monstrous, that this player here, " But...own conceit, " That from her working, all his visage Mr. Steevens would read " warm'd," according to the folio, instead of " wann'd," as exhibited in the...

...Ros. Good my lord ! [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERIST. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in...fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul to his own conceit, That from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's...

...it not monstrous, that this player here, But ma fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul to his own conceit, That from her working, all his visage wann'd ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? And all for...