Shakespeare Lexicon, Band 1
Cosimo, Inc., 2007 - 772 Seiten
Still often used today, German schoolmaster and philologist ALEXANDER SCHMIDT's (1816-1887) Shakespeare Lexicon is the source for elucidating the sometimes cryptic language of Shakespeare and tracking down quotations. Volume 1 covers A through L, from "a: the first letter of the alphabet" to "Lysimachus," a proper name. Every word from every play and poem is cataloged, referenced, and defined in this exhaustive two-volume work, the result of arduous research and stalwart dedication. Serious scholars and zealous fans will find the Lexicon the ultimate guide to reading and decoding the Bard.
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here ham I few attendants and subjects none 39 9 nor think the bitterness of a sour 57 7
you find not the apostraphas and so Accessary adj guilty participating
by an a of success Alls IV 8 99 III 7199 wicked dreams a the curtained sleep Mcb
wide world other ventures he has squandered a though a Wint I 1 82 lovers a hours Oth
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
absol All's arms bear beauty better blood body borne breath Caes cause Compl Cymb death doth eyes face fair fear Figuratively Followed fortune Gent Gentl give ground H4B IV hand hast hath head heart heaven Hence hold honour intr John John II keep kind king live Lncr look lord Lucr Luer matter means Meas Merch Merck Mereh Mids mind nature never night perhaps person Pilgr Prol quibble sense Sonn soul speak speech spirit stand subst sweet tears thee thing thou thought tongue trans Troil true Wint
Seite 128 - So did this horse excel a common one, In shape, in courage, colour, pace and bone. Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide, High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: Look what a horse should have he did not lack...
Seite 225 - 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 194 - You have said, sir. —To see this age ! — A sentence is but a cheveril glove to a good wit; How quickly the wrong side may be turned outward ! Vio.
Seite 276 - Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an egg-shell.
Seite 198 - By'r lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven, than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine.
Seite 112 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from...
Seite 323 - For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires: The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see.
Seite 363 - They bear the mandate ; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery. Let it work ; For 'tis the sport to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar : and 't shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon : O, 'tis most sweet, When in one line two crafts directly meet.
Seite 168 - I'll have the current in this place damm'd up ; And here the smug and silver Trent shall run In a new channel, fair and evenly : It shall not wind with such a deep indent, To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
Seite 283 - And peace proclaims olives of endless age. Now with the drops of this most balmy time My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes, Since, spite of him, I'll live in this poor rhyme, While he insults o'er dull and speechless tribes: And thou in this shalt find thy monument, When tyrants' crests and tombs of brass are spent.