 | William Shakespeare - 1992 - 196 pages
...Elsinore. Good my lord. [Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstem. Ay, so, God buy you! Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous...a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working59 all his visage wanned, Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,... | |
 | Lars Engle - 1993 - 284 pages
...incapacity to force his soul to his conceit. This particular case deserves more detailed discussion. O what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous...a dream of passion. Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wann'd. Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1995 - 136 pages
...be true, And it must follow as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man. 19 O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous...a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wanned, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,... | |
 | Richard Courtney - 1995 - 274 pages
...tragedy is back on course. "Now I am alone," says Hamlet. It is a long time since he was so. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous...a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wanned ... (546-551) "This player here": Burbage gestures... | |
 | Pauline Kiernan - 1998 - 236 pages
...it not monstrous', Hamlet asks, that it is the fictitiousness of drama which compels belief? O what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous...his visage wann'd, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? And atifor nothing!... | |
 | Plato - 1996 - 268 pages
...131-5. For the phenomenon which the passage as a whole describes cf. Hamlet's words (Act 2, scene 2): 'Is it not monstrous, that this player here, | But...his visage wann'd; | Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, | A broken voice, and his whole function suiting, | With forms to his conceit? and all... | |
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O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit, That, from her working, all his visage wann'd... 
