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Achilles Æne Æneas Agamemnon Ajax Antenor art thou Belarius beseech better blood Britain brother Calchas call'd Cloten Cordelia Cymbeline daughter dear Deiphobus Diomed dost doth Edmund Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fool foul give Gloster gods Goneril Grecian Greek Guiderius hast hath hear heart heavens Hector Helenus honour i'the Imogen Jupiter Kent king knave lady Lear lise look lord madam master Menelaus mistress night noble o'the Pandarus Patroclus Pisanio poison'd poor Posthumus pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Re-enter Regan sase SCENE sear sellow shew sister speak stand sweet sword tell thee there's thine thing thou art Troilus Trojan Troy trumpet villain What's
Page 87 - tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles : Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade! Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head: The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice; and yon...
Page 56 - Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! spout, rain! Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters: I tax not you, you elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdom, call'd you children, You owe me no subscription: then let fall Your horrible pleasure; here I stand, your slave, A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man.
Page 68 - There is a mystery (with whom relation Durst never meddle) in the soul of state; Which hath an operation more divine, Than breath, or pen, can give expressure to...
Page 86 - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Page 99 - 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 66 - Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 15 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, — often the surfeit of our own behaviour, — we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars...
Page 52 - 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.
Page 90 - With a more riotous appetite. Down from the waist they are centaurs, though women all above : but to the girdle do the gods inherit, beneath is all the fiends' ; there's hell, there's darkness, there is the sulphurous pit, burning, scalding, stench, consumption.
Page 20 - But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!