The Hamnet Shakspere, according to the first folio, spelling modernised, with remarks on Shakspere's use of capital letters in his manuscript, and a few notes by A.P. Paton, Teil 2

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Seite xii - Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood...
Seite xvi - I, as ^Eneas, our great ancestor, Did, from the flames of Troy, upon his shoulder, The old Anchises bear, so, from the waves of Tiber, Did I the tired Caesar : and this man Is now become a god ; and Cassius is A wretched creature, and must bend his body. If Caesar carelessly but nod on him.
Seite 8 - Nor the dejected haviour of the Visage, Together with all Forms, Moods, shews of Grief, That can denote me truly. These indeed Seem, For they are actions that a man might play: But I have that Within, which passeth show; These, but the Trappings, and the Suits of woe.
Seite xiv - Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. — Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title ! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
Seite x - 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 the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Seite xiii - But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood.
Seite 67 - You cannot call it love ; for at your age The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waits upon the judgment...
Seite 20 - I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul ; freeze thy young blood ; Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres; Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porcupine...
Seite 15 - Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy : For the apparel oft proclaims the man...
Seite 51 - ... twere, the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.

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