The spirit of the plays of Shakspeare: exhibited in a series of outline plates illustrative of the story of each play, Volume 5 (Google eBook)

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T. Cadell, 1833
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Page 10 - O, reason not the need ! our basest beggars Are in the poorest thing superfluous : Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man's life is cheap, as beast's : thou art a lady ; If only to go warm were gorgeous, Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear'st, Which scarcely keeps thee warm.
Page 50 - O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Page 50 - It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars ! It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood; Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Page 50 - 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 12 - Says suum, mun, ha, no, nonny. Dolphin my boy, my boy, sessa! let him trot by. Storm still LEAR. Why, thou wert better in thy grave than to answer with thy uncovered body this extremity of the skies. Is man no more than this? Consider him well. Thou owest the worm no silk, the beast no hide, the sheep no wool, the cat no perfume. Ha! here's three on "s are sophisticated! Thou art the thing itself; unaccommodated man is no more but such a poor, bare, forked animal as thou art.
Page 50 - I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven, Whilst, like a puffd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads And recks not his own rede.
Page 50 - Set you down this ; And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban'd Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog, And smote him, thus.
Page 50 - Pale as his shirt ; his knees knocking each other ; And with a look so piteous in purport, As if he had been loosed out of hell, To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
Page 50 - No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice...
Page 11 - 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.

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