Elizabethan Drama ..., Volume 46P. F. Collier & son, 1910 - English drama |
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Page 20
Christopher Marlowe. Live where thou wilt , I'll send thee gold enough ; And long thou shalt not stay , or if thou dost , I'll come to thee ; my love shall ne'er decline . Gav . Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief ? K. Edw . Rend ...
Christopher Marlowe. Live where thou wilt , I'll send thee gold enough ; And long thou shalt not stay , or if thou dost , I'll come to thee ; my love shall ne'er decline . Gav . Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief ? K. Edw . Rend ...
Page 29
... dost thou mean to serve ? Y. Spen . Not Mortimer , nor any of his side , Because the king and he are enemies . Baldock , learn this of me , a factious lord Shall hardly do himself good , much less us ; But he that hath the favour of a ...
... dost thou mean to serve ? Y. Spen . Not Mortimer , nor any of his side , Because the king and he are enemies . Baldock , learn this of me , a factious lord Shall hardly do himself good , much less us ; But he that hath the favour of a ...
Page 50
... dost thou come alone ? Arun . Yea , my good lord , for Gaveston is dead . K. Edw . Ah , traitors ! have they put my friend to death ? Tell me , Arundel , died he ere thou cam'st , Or didst thou see my friend to take his death ? Arun ...
... dost thou come alone ? Arun . Yea , my good lord , for Gaveston is dead . K. Edw . Ah , traitors ! have they put my friend to death ? Tell me , Arundel , died he ere thou cam'st , Or didst thou see my friend to take his death ? Arun ...
Page 56
... dost thou banish me thy presence ? But I'll to France , and cheer the wronged queen , And certify what Edward's looseness is . Unnatural king ! to slaughter noblemen And cherish flatterers ! Mortimer , I stay Thy sweet escape : stand ...
... dost thou banish me thy presence ? But I'll to France , and cheer the wronged queen , And certify what Edward's looseness is . Unnatural king ! to slaughter noblemen And cherish flatterers ! Mortimer , I stay Thy sweet escape : stand ...
Page 57
Christopher Marlowe. Q. Isab . Ah , boy , thou art deceiv'd , at least in this , To think that we can yet be tun'd together ; No , no , we jar too far . Unkind Valois ! Unhappy Isabel ! when France rejects , Whither , oh ! whither dost thou ...
Christopher Marlowe. Q. Isab . Ah , boy , thou art deceiv'd , at least in this , To think that we can yet be tun'd together ; No , no , we jar too far . Unkind Valois ! Unhappy Isabel ! when France rejects , Whither , oh ! whither dost thou ...
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Common terms and phrases
ARIEL art thou Baldock Banquo blood brother Caliban castle Cordelia Corn daughter dead dear death Denmark dost thou doth Earl Edmund England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes farewell father fear Fleance Fool Fortinbras foul friends Gaveston Gent give Glou Gloucester GONERIL grace GUILDENSTERN Hamlet hand hath head hear heart heaven hither honour Horatio Isab Kent KING EDWARD Lady Laer Laertes Lancaster Lear live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff madam majesty monster Mortimer murder night noble Ophelia poison'd POLONIUS poor pray prithee Pros Queen Re-enter Regan ROSENCRANTZ ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN Ross SCENE sister sleep Soldiers soul speak Spen Spencer spirit strange sweet sword Sycorax tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou shalt traitor Trin unto villain Witch
Popular passages
Page 175 - How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and god-like reason To fust in us unus'd.
Page 453 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; In a cowslip's bell I lie : There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly After summer merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough ". PRO.
Page 148 - O, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that neither having the 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 115 - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres ; Thy knotted and combined locks to part. And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine...
Page 133 - I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
Page 140 - Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit ? and all for nothing ! For Hecuba ! What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her ? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have...
Page 164 - The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See, what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury, New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; A combination, and a form, indeed, Where every god did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man : This was your husband.
Page 175 - Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on the event, A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward, I do not know Why yet I live to say ' This thing's to do ; ' Sith I have cause and will and strength and means To do 't.
Page 113 - Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
Page 317 - Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life! Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never!