Shakespeare's Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of DenmarkHarper, 1893 - 285 Seiten |
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
1st quarto accent allusion Bernardo blood Caldecott character Chaucer Clown Coleridge Coll Cotgrave Cymb Dane dead dear death deed Delius Denmark Dict doth early eds earth edition Elsinore euphuism Exeunt Exit explains eyes father fear folio reading followed Fortinbras friends gentleman Gertrude Ghost give Hamlet hast hath hear heart heaven honour Horatio John Johnson Julius Cæsar King king of Denmark Laertes Lear look lord Macb madness Malone Marcellus means modern eds mother murther Nares nature night noun o'er omitted Ophelia Osric passage passion play players poison'd Polonius pray prince Pyrrhus quarto reading Queen remarks revenge Reynaldo Rich Rosencrantz and Guildenstern says SCENE Schmidt sense Shakespeare Shakspere Sonn soul speak speech spirit Steevens quotes sweet sword tell Temp thee Theo thing thou thought verb Warb word youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 55 - Why, she would hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on; and yet, within a month Let me not think on't!
Seite 70 - Hold, hold, my heart, And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up ! Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
Seite 124 - That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery, That aptly is put on.
Seite 66 - What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel Revisit'st 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 ? Say, why is this ? wherefore ? what should we do ? [Ghost beckons Hamlet.
Seite 114 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Seite 88 - 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.
Seite 66 - What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form, Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness?
Seite 96 - I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions ; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Seite 123 - Ecstasy ! My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music : it is not madness That I have utter'd : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks : It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen.
Seite 179 - But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice 'Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.