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Achilles Æmil Æmilia Æne Æneas Agamemnon Ajax art thou blood Brabantio Cajsw Calchas Capulet Clown consess Cyprus dead dear death Desdemona Diomede dost doth Enter Ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair fame Farewel father flain fome fool foul Friar Lawrence gentlemen give good-night Hamlet hath hear heart heav'n HeBor Helen honour Horatio Iago is't Juliet King lady Laer Laertes lago lise look lord Madam marry Menelaus Mercutio Moor night noble Nurse o'er Othello Pandarus Paris Patroclus poifon Polonius pray Priam Prince Queen reafon Rodorigo Romeo SCENE sear sellow shew sield sirst speak sweet sword tell thee Ther there's thing thofe thou art thou hast to-night Troi Troilus Trojan true Tybalt Ulyjs villain Warb what's whofe wise word
Page 65 - Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 274 - I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus: but use all gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.
Page 275 - ... accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Page 285 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think, I am easier to be played on than a pipe...
Page 324 - I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Hor. What's that, my lord? Ham. Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i
Page 242 - Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Page 423 - 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 136 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.