The Works of Shakespeare: the Text Carefully Restored According to the First Editions: Editor's preface; Didication; Commendatory verses; Tempest; Two gentlemen of Verona; Merry wives of Windsor; Twelfth nightJ. Munroe, 1851 |
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Page 341
... Sir Toby and Sir Andrew to be English residents ; the former , a maternal uncle to Olivia , her father , a Venetian count , having married his sister . This discrepancy in the grouping of the persons , whether so in- tended or not ...
... Sir Toby and Sir Andrew to be English residents ; the former , a maternal uncle to Olivia , her father , a Venetian count , having married his sister . This discrepancy in the grouping of the persons , whether so in- tended or not ...
Page 342
... Sir John , nor a fainter sketch of him , yet he has an odd sort of a family likeness to him . " Sir Andrew Ague - cheek , the aspiring , lack a- daisical , self - satisfied echo and sequel of Sir Toby , fitly serves the double purpose ...
... Sir John , nor a fainter sketch of him , yet he has an odd sort of a family likeness to him . " Sir Andrew Ague - cheek , the aspiring , lack a- daisical , self - satisfied echo and sequel of Sir Toby , fitly serves the double purpose ...
Page 344
... Sir Toby ; we patronize Sir Andrew ; we have an understanding with the Clown , a sneaking kindness for Maria and her rogueries ; we feel a regard for Malvolio , and sympathize with his gravity , his smiles , his cross - garters , his ...
... Sir Toby ; we patronize Sir Andrew ; we have an understanding with the Clown , a sneaking kindness for Maria and her rogueries ; we feel a regard for Malvolio , and sympathize with his gravity , his smiles , his cross - garters , his ...
Page 348
... SIR TOBY BELCH , Uncle of Olivia . SIR ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK . MALVOLIO , Steward to Olivia . FABIAN , Clown , } Servants to Olivia . OLIVIA , a rich Countess . VIOLA , in love with the Duke . MARIA , Olivia's Woman . Lords , Priests ...
... SIR TOBY BELCH , Uncle of Olivia . SIR ANDREW AGUE - CHEEK . MALVOLIO , Steward to Olivia . FABIAN , Clown , } Servants to Olivia . OLIVIA , a rich Countess . VIOLA , in love with the Duke . MARIA , Olivia's Woman . Lords , Priests ...
Page 355
... Sir To . Who ? Sir Andrew Ague - cheek ? Mar. Ay , he . Sir To . He's as tall1 a man as any's in Illyria . Mar. What's that to the purpose ? Sir To . Why , he has three thousand ducats a year . Mar. Ay , but he'll have but a year in all ...
... Sir To . Who ? Sir Andrew Ague - cheek ? Mar. Ay , he . Sir To . He's as tall1 a man as any's in Illyria . Mar. What's that to the purpose ? Sir To . Why , he has three thousand ducats a year . Mar. Ay , but he'll have but a year in all ...
Common terms and phrases
ARIEL Caius Caliban called devil dost doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fairies Falstaff father fool gentle gentlemen Gentlemen of Verona give hath hear heart heaven Herne the hunter honour Host HUGH EVANS humour Illyria Julia king knave knight lady Laun Launce letter lord madam Malvolio Marry master Brook master doctor means Milan mind Mira mistress Ford never Olivia Pist play Poet Poet's pr'ythee pray Prospero Proteus Quick Re-enter SCENE Sebastian servant Shakespeare Shal Silvia Sir Andrew Sir ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK Sir Hugh Sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH Slen Slender soul speak Speed spirit sweet Sycorax tell Tempest thee there's thing thou art thou hast Thurio Trin Trinculo Twelfth Night Valentine Verona Windsor woman word
Popular passages
Page 104 - tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, Or sent to Naples : Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell ; But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands ', Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please : Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant ; And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev'd by prayer ; Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults....
Page 92 - 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.
Page 331 - If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love.
Page xxviii - For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart • Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble, with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred in such pomp dost lie, That kings for such a tomb would wish to die.
Page 72 - 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 sometimes voices That, if I then had waked 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 waked, I cried to dream again.
Page 93 - The charm dissolves apace ; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.
Page 93 - 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.
Page 92 - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war...
Page 77 - 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" the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
Page 92 - By moon-shine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites ; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms ; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be,) I have be-dimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And...