Notes and emendations to the text of Shakespeare's plays: from early manuscript corrections in a copy of the folio, 1632 (Google eBook)

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Redfield, 1853 - 541 pages
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Page 193 - If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die. That strain again; it had a dying fall; O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour. Enough; no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Page 122 - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be: In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Page 139 - Thus ornament is but the guiled shore To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word, The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest.
Page 112 - And where we are, our learning likewise is. Then, when ourselves we see in ladies...
Page 144 - ... Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood ; nor cut thou less, nor more, But just a pound of flesh : if thou tak'st more, Or less, than a just pound, be it but so much As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance, Or the division of the twentieth part Of one poor scruple ; nay, if the scale do turn But in the estimation of a hair, Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Page 279 - A made a finer end, and went away, an it had been any christom child; 'a parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets, and play with flowers, and smile upon his fingers...
Page 28 - Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands : Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd, The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there ; And, sweet Sprites, the burthen bear.
Page 475 - I'd use them so That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever ! I know when one is dead, and when one lives ; She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass ; If that her breath will mist or stain the stone, Why, then she lives.
Page 377 - All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights Are spectacled to see him : your prattling nurse Into a rapture lets her baby cry While she chats him : the kitchen malkin pins Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, Clambering the walls to eye him...
Page 489 - A fixed figure for the time of scorn To point his slow unmoving finger at...

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