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Aaron ancient Andronicus appears arms Bawd bear believe better blood Boult bring brother brought called comes correction corrupt daughter dead death doth doubt dramas edition emperor Enter expression eyes fair father fear folio friends give gods Goths Gower hand hast hath head hear heart heaven honour kind King King Henry lady Lavinia leave live look lord Lucius Malone Marcus Marina Mason means metre nature never night noble observed old copies original passage perhaps Pericles piece play poet poor present prince printed prove quarto queen reason Rome scene seems sense Shakspeare sons speak speech stand Steevens suppose sure sweet Tale tears tell thee thing thou thought Titus Todd translation true Tyre unto wish written
Page 223 - 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...
Page 193 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge, And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Page 220 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 248 - And brass eternal slave to mortal rage ; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state...
Page 191 - Thou coveredst it with the deep as with a garment: The waters stood above the mountains. At thy rebuke they fled; At the voice of thy thunder they hasted away.
Page 149 - Poor naked wretches, wheresoe'er you are, That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm, How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides, Your loop'd and window'd raggedness, defend you From seasons such as these ? O, I have ta'en Too little care of this ! Take physic, pomp ; Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel, That thou mayst shake the superflux to them, And show the heavens more just.