Dramatic Micellanies [sic]: Consisting of Critical Observations on Several Plays of Shakspeare: with a Review of His Principal Characters, and Those of Various Eminent Writers, as Represented by Mr. Garrick, and Other Celebrated Comedians. ... By Thomas Davies, ... In Three Volumes. ...
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Page 320 - Methinks I should know you, and know this man; Yet I am doubtful; for I am mainly' ignorant What place this is, and all the skill I have Remembers not these garments; nor I know not Where I did lodge last night. Do not laugh at me ; For, as I am a man, I think this lady To be my child Cordelia.
Page 212 - Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, And I will look on both indifferently; For let the gods so speed me as I love The name of honour more than I fear death.
Page 319 - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
Page 267 - I was many years ago so shocked by Cordelia's death, that I know not whether I ever endured to read again the last scenes of the play till I undertook to revise them as an editor.
Page 149 - What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red.
Page 22 - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; And to do that well craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
Page 130 - He made darkness his secret place, his pavilion round about Him with dark water, and thick clouds to cover Him.
Page 281 - But we should reflect, that Lear is not agitated by one passion only, that he is not moved by rage, by grief, and indignation, singly, but by a tumultuous combination of them all together, where all claim to be heard at once, and where one naturally interrupts the progress of the other.
Page 357 - Ant. Come on, my soldier! Our hearts and arms are still the same : I long Once more to meet our foes; that thou and I, Like Time and Death, marching before our troops, May taste fate to them ; mow them out a passage, And, entering where the foremost squadrons yield, Begin the noble harvest of the field.