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Ĉmil Ĉmilia art thou Benvolio better blood Brabantio Caffio Capulet Cassio Clown Cyprus dead dear death Denmark Desdemona dost doth Duke editions emendation Enter ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes fair fame Farewel father fear fense folio foul Friar Lawrence give Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n honest honour Horatio Iago is't Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago look Lord Madam Mantua married means Mercutio Montague Moor murder never night noble Nurse old quarto Ophelia Othello passage play poet Polonius Pope pray Queen racter Rodorigo Romeo SCENE shew signifies Smethwicke soul speak speech sweet sword tell thee Theobald There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tion true Tybalt Venice villain Warb Warburton wife William Shakespeare wilt word
Page 39 - Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek ! Jul.
Page 210 - As made the things more rich : their perfume lost, Take these again ; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
Page 59 - These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume...
Page 214 - Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature...
Page 234 - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
Page 252 - Not where he eats, but where he is eaten : a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots : your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, — two dishes, but to one table : that's the end.
Page 83 - It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale ; look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Page 363 - O my soul's joy ! If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death ! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas, Olympus-high ; and duck again as low As hell's from heaven ! If it were now to die, '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.