The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, 第 12 期

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G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806
 

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第42页 - The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver ; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, It...
第24页 - It hath been taught us from the primal state That he which is was wish'd until he were; And the ebb'd man, ne'er lov'd till ne'er worth love, Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.
第271页 - Fear no more the frown o' the great: Thou art past the tyrant's stroke. Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
第267页 - O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st : In these two princely boys ! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head : and yet as rough, Their royal blood enchaf 'd, as the rud'st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain pine And make him stoop to the vale.
第149页 - With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool, Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass Unpolicied ! CHAR. O eastern star ! CLEO. Peace, peace ! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep ? CHAR.
第269页 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
第148页 - Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip : — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act...
第152页 - Take up her bed, And bear her women from the monument:— She shall be buried by her Antony: No grave upon the earth shall clip in it A pair so famous. High events as these Strike those that make them; and their story is No less in pity than his glory which Brought them to be lamented.
第318页 - The female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew ; The red-breast oft at evening hours Shall kindly lend his little aid, With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers, To deck the ground where thou art laid.
第238页 - tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword ; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile ; * whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world : kings, queens, and states,1 Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.

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