The Dramatic Works of W. Shakespeare |
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Page 9
There is some space . It struck mine ear most terribly . Ant . A space whose every
cubit Alon . I heard nothing . Seems to cry out , How shall that Claribel Ant . 0 , '
twas a din to fright a monster's ear ; Measure us back to Naples ? —Keep in
Tunis ...
There is some space . It struck mine ear most terribly . Ant . A space whose every
cubit Alon . I heard nothing . Seems to cry out , How shall that Claribel Ant . 0 , '
twas a din to fright a monster's ear ; Measure us back to Naples ? —Keep in
Tunis ...
Page 13
That there are unicorns ; that in Arabia Ste . What is this same ? There is one tree
, the phænix ' throne ; one phenix Trin . This is the tune of our catch , played by At
this hour reigning there . Ant . I'll believe both ; the picture of No - body .
That there are unicorns ; that in Arabia Ste . What is this same ? There is one tree
, the phænix ' throne ; one phenix Trin . This is the tune of our catch , played by At
this hour reigning there . Ant . I'll believe both ; the picture of No - body .
Page 16
There's not only disgrace and dishonor in Is rounded with a sleep . — Sir , I am
vex'd ; that , monster , but an ... I will fetch off my bottle , though I be o'er And there
repose ; a turn or two I'll walk , ears for my labor . To still my beating mind . Cal .
There's not only disgrace and dishonor in Is rounded with a sleep . — Sir , I am
vex'd ; that , monster , but an ... I will fetch off my bottle , though I be o'er And there
repose ; a turn or two I'll walk , ears for my labor . To still my beating mind . Cal .
Page 31
Him we go to find : there's not a hair How shall I best convey the ladder thither ?
on's head , but ' tis a Valentine . Val . It will be light , my lord , that you may bear it
Pro . Valentine ? Under a cloak , that is of any length . Val . No. Duke . A cloak as
...
Him we go to find : there's not a hair How shall I best convey the ladder thither ?
on's head , but ' tis a Valentine . Val . It will be light , my lord , that you may bear it
Pro . Valentine ? Under a cloak , that is of any length . Val . No. Duke . A cloak as
...
Page 42
Why do I pray you , pardon me ; he's a justice of peace in your dogs bark so ? be
there bears i ' the town ? his country , simple though I stand here . Anne . ... Ay ,
there's the point , sir . quarrel at it as any man in England : -You are Eva .
Why do I pray you , pardon me ; he's a justice of peace in your dogs bark so ? be
there bears i ' the town ? his country , simple though I stand here . Anne . ... Ay ,
there's the point , sir . quarrel at it as any man in England : -You are Eva .
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Popular passages
Page 451 - This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered ; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's...
Page 436 - The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts; Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their ( emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil...
Page 208 - Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice, In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd, With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances * ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward...
Page 149 - Lovers, and madmen, have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover, and the poet, Are of imagination all compact. One sees more devils than vast hell can hold ; That is, the madman : the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt...
Page 166 - Other slow arts entirely keep the brain ; And therefore finding barren practisers, Scarce show a harvest of their heavy toil : But love, first learned in a lady's eyes, Lives not alone immured in the brain ; But with the motion of all elements, Courses as swift as thought in every power ; And gives to every power a double power, Above their functions and their offices.
Page 319 - Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt.
Page 331 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. — To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! Life's but a walking shadow ; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more : it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
Page 451 - This day is call'd — the feast of Crispian ; He, that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He, that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his friends, And say — to-morrow is Saint Crispian : Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars, And say, these wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Page 355 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Page 180 - Still have I borne it with a patient shrug; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. You call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears you need my help : Go to, then ; you come to me, and you say ' Shylock, we would have moneys...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Dramatic Works of W. Shakespeare |
| Author | William Shakespeare |
| Publisher | J. Harding, 1849 |
| Original from | the New York Public Library |
| Digitized | 29 Dec 2006 |
| Length | 925 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |