The Works: Of Shakespear. In which the Beauties Observed by Pope, Warburton, and Dodd, are Pointed Out. Together with the Author's Life; a Glossary; Copious Indexes; and a List of the Various Readings. In Eight Volumes, Том 3A. Donaldson, and sold at his shop, London; and at Edinburgh, 1771 |
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Стр. 11
... Some fix months fince , my Lord . King . If he were living , I would try him yet ; - Lend me an arm ; the reft have worn me out With feveral applications ; nature and fickness Debate it at their leifure . Welcome , Count , My fon's no ...
... Some fix months fince , my Lord . King . If he were living , I would try him yet ; - Lend me an arm ; the reft have worn me out With feveral applications ; nature and fickness Debate it at their leifure . Welcome , Count , My fon's no ...
Стр. 33
... some reservation of your wrongs . He , my good Lord , whom I serve above , is my master . Laf . Who ? God ? Par . Ay , Sir . Why doft doft make thou wert Laf . The devil it is that's thy mafter . thou garter up thy arms o ' this fathion ...
... some reservation of your wrongs . He , my good Lord , whom I serve above , is my master . Laf . Who ? God ? Par . Ay , Sir . Why doft doft make thou wert Laf . The devil it is that's thy mafter . thou garter up thy arms o ' this fathion ...
Стр. 38
... Some private speech with you . Ber . I fhall obey his will . You must not marvel , Helen , at my courfe , Which holds not colour with the time ; nor does The miniftration and required office On my particular . Prepar'd I was not For ...
... Some private speech with you . Ber . I fhall obey his will . You must not marvel , Helen , at my courfe , Which holds not colour with the time ; nor does The miniftration and required office On my particular . Prepar'd I was not For ...
Стр. 97
... Some mollification for your giant , fweet lady . Oli . Tell me your mind . Vio . I am a meffenger . Oli . Sure you have fome hideous matter to deliver , when the courtesy of it is fo fearful . Speak your of- fice . in Vio . It alone ...
... Some mollification for your giant , fweet lady . Oli . Tell me your mind . Vio . I am a meffenger . Oli . Sure you have fome hideous matter to deliver , when the courtesy of it is fo fearful . Speak your of- fice . in Vio . It alone ...
Стр. 104
... some dogs will catch well . Sir And . Moft certain : let our catch be , Thou knave . Clo . Hold thy peace , thou knave , Knight . I thall be conftrain'd in't , to call thee knave , Knight .. ! Sir And . ' Tis not the first time I have ...
... some dogs will catch well . Sir And . Moft certain : let our catch be , Thou knave . Clo . Hold thy peace , thou knave , Knight . I thall be conftrain'd in't , to call thee knave , Knight .. ! Sir And . ' Tis not the first time I have ...
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Стр. 336 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Стр. 57 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Стр. 252 - This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Стр. 362 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Стр. 64 - I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall : simply the thing I am Shall make me live.
Стр. 116 - I might say, element ; but the word is over-worn. [Exit, Via. This fellow's wise enough to play the fool ; And to do that well, craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time ; • And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
Стр. 108 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek.