Cruces Shakespearianæ: Difficult Passages in the Works of Shakespeare (Google eBook)

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G. Bell and Sons, 1883 - 507 pages
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Page 159 - 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 418 - You see me here, you Gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age, wretched in both, If it be you that stir these daughters...
Page 379 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongu'd, against ' The deep damnation of his taking-off: And pity, like a naked new-born babe.
Page 445 - HIGH on a throne of royal state, • — which far Outshone the wealth of Ormus, and of Ind ; Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings Barbaric pearl and gold...
Page 418 - Stain my man's cheeks !— 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. You think I'll weep...
Page 438 - Set me as a seal upon thine heart, As a seal upon thine arm : For love is strong as death; Jealousy is cruel as the grave: The coals thereof are coals of fire, Which hath a most vehement flame.
Page 113 - When the mind's free The body's delicate; the tempest in my mind Doth from my senses take all feeling else Save what beats there.
Page 44 - Ay, but to die, and go we know not where ; To lie in cold obstruction and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod ; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods...
Page 444 - 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: then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well...
Page 353 - Thou, nature, art my goddess ; to thy law My services are bound : Wherefore should I Stand in the plague of custom ; and permit The curiosity of nations to deprive me, For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines Lag of a brother? Why bastard?

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