The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Volumen15

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F. C. and J. Rivington, 1821

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Página 302 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Página 108 - hest to say so! Fer. Admir'd Miranda! Indeed the top of admiration ; worth What's dearest to the world ! Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard ; and many a time The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear...
Página 56 - I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known : But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with ; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock, Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.
Página 54 - em. Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou earnest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me ; wouldst give me Water with berries in't ; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night : and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o...
Página 159 - gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further.
Página 131 - O, it is monstrous, monstrous ! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it ; The winds did sing it to me ; and the thunder. That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper : it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Página 120 - Be not afeard ; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears ; and sometime voices, That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, Will make me sleep again : and then, in dreaming, The clouds, methought, would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me ; that when I wak'd I cried to dream again.
Página 162 - Some heavenly music, (which even now I do) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.
Página 95 - A strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm o...
Página 15 - And thou shalt be brought down, and shalt speak out of the ground, and thy speech shall be low out of the dust, and thy voice shall be, as of one that hath a familiar spirit, out of the ground, and thy speech shall whisper out of the dust.

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