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. 5
... thought you affect a forrow , than to have it . As an too . Hel . I do affect a forrow , indeed , but I have it ... thoughts , he fervants to you ? Be comfortable to my mother your miftrefs , and make much of her . Laf . Farewell ...
... thought you affect a forrow , than to have it . As an too . Hel . I do affect a forrow , indeed , but I have it ... thoughts , he fervants to you ? Be comfortable to my mother your miftrefs , and make much of her . Laf . Farewell ...
Стр. 11
... thoughts , than on his tomb ; So in approof lives not his epitaph , As in your royal speech . King . Would I were with him ! he would always fay , ( Methinks I hear him now ; his plaufive words He fcatter'd not in ears , but grafted ...
... thoughts , than on his tomb ; So in approof lives not his epitaph , As in your royal speech . King . Would I were with him ! he would always fay , ( Methinks I hear him now ; his plaufive words He fcatter'd not in ears , but grafted ...
Стр. 14
... thought , I dare vow for her , they touch'd not any ftran- ger fenfe . Her matter was , fhe lov'd your fon : For- tune , she said , was no goddefs , that had put fuch dif ference betwixt their two eftates ; Love , no god , that would ...
... thought , I dare vow for her , they touch'd not any ftran- ger fenfe . Her matter was , fhe lov'd your fon : For- tune , she said , was no goddefs , that had put fuch dif ference betwixt their two eftates ; Love , no god , that would ...
Стр. 15
... thought them none . Here eye is fick on't ; I obferve her now . Hel . What is your pleasure , Madam ? Count . Helen , you know , I am a mother to you . Hel .. Mine honourable Mistress . Count . Nay , a mother . · Why not a mother ? when ...
... thought them none . Here eye is fick on't ; I obferve her now . Hel . What is your pleasure , Madam ? Count . Helen , you know , I am a mother to you . Hel .. Mine honourable Mistress . Count . Nay , a mother . · Why not a mother ? when ...
Стр. 17
... from the converfation of my thoughts Haply been absent then . Count . But think you , Helen , If you should tender your fuppofed aid , VOL . III . C He He would receive it ? He and his phyficians . Se .. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . 17.
... from the converfation of my thoughts Haply been absent then . Count . But think you , Helen , If you should tender your fuppofed aid , VOL . III . C He He would receive it ? He and his phyficians . Se .. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . 17.
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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.