Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
actor admiration affections answer Antony Apemantus appears beauty Beggar's Opera better Cęsar Caliban character comedy common contempt Coriolanus criticism CYMBELINE death delight Desdemona doth English equal Essays excited expression eyes Falstaff fame fancy fear feeling friends genius give grace habit Hamlet hath Hazlitt heart heaven Henry honour human Iago idea imagination indifference interest Julius Cęsar king lady Lear Leigh Hunt live look lord Lycidas Macbeth Malvolio manner means Midsummer Night's Dream Milton mind moral nature never objects opinion Othello painted painter Paradise Lost passage passion persons picture play pleasure poet poetry Prince principle reason refinement Regan Richard Richard II Round Table scene seems sense sentiment Shakespear shew soul speak spirit stage style sweet sympathy taste Tatler thee thing thought tion Titian tragedy true truth whole William Hazlitt words Wordsworth writer
Pągina 282 - Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends : subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king ? Car.
Pągina 302 - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Pągina 29 - Namancos and Bayona's hold ; Look homeward, Angel, now, and melt with ruth ! And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth...
Pągina 2 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on, how then ? Can honour set to a leg ? No. Or an arm ? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour ? What is that honour ? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it ? He that died o
Pągina 186 - This was the noblest Roman of them all; All the conspirators save only he Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle, and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, 'This was a man!
Pągina 164 - Dis's waggon! daffodils That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath...
Pągina 29 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks; Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Pągina 184 - O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome...