The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by Pope, Warburton and Dodd are pointed out, together with the author's life; a glossary [&c.]. |
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Стр. 3
... Lord . Parolles , a parafitical fol- lower of Bertram ; a cow- ard , but vain , and a great pretender to valour . Several young French Lords , that ferve with Bertram in the Florentine war . Servants to the Countess of Rou- fillon ...
... Lord . Parolles , a parafitical fol- lower of Bertram ; a cow- ard , but vain , and a great pretender to valour . Several young French Lords , that ferve with Bertram in the Florentine war . Servants to the Countess of Rou- fillon ...
Стр. 4
... Lord , the King lan- guishes of ? Laf . A fiftula , my Lord . Ber . I heard not of it before . Laf . I would it were not notorious . Was this tlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon ? gen- Count . His fole child , my Lord , and ...
... Lord , the King lan- guishes of ? Laf . A fiftula , my Lord . Ber . I heard not of it before . Laf . I would it were not notorious . Was this tlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon ? gen- Count . His fole child , my Lord , and ...
Стр. 5
... Lord ; ' Tis an unfeason'd courtier , good my Lord , Advise him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love . Count . Heav'n blefs him ! Farewel , Bertram . [ Exit Countess . Ber . [ To Hel . ] The best wishes that can ...
... Lord ; ' Tis an unfeason'd courtier , good my Lord , Advise him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love . Count . Heav'n blefs him ! Farewel , Bertram . [ Exit Countess . Ber . [ To Hel . ] The best wishes that can ...
Стр. 10
... Lord . It may well ferve A nursery to our gentry , who are fick For breathing and exploit . King . What's he comes here ? Enter Bertram , Lafeu , and Parolles . I Lord . It is the Count Roufillen , my good Lord , Young Bertram . King ...
... Lord . It may well ferve A nursery to our gentry , who are fick For breathing and exploit . King . What's he comes here ? Enter Bertram , Lafeu , and Parolles . I Lord . It is the Count Roufillen , my good Lord , Young Bertram . King ...
Стр. 11
... Lord . You're loved , Sir ; They that least lend it you , fhall lack you firft . King . I fill a place , I know't . How long is't , Count , Since the phyfician at your father's died ? He was much fam'd . Ber . Some fix months fince , my ...
... Lord . You're loved , Sir ; They that least lend it you , fhall lack you firft . King . I fill a place , I know't . How long is't , Count , Since the phyfician at your father's died ? He was much fam'd . Ber . Some fix months fince , my ...
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againſt anſwer Antipholis Arth beſt Bithynia blood buſineſs Camillo Conft Count defire doft doth Dromio Duke elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid father Faulc Faulconbridge feem fent ferve fervice fhall fhame fhew fhould fifter fince firſt fome fool foul fpeak fpirit France ftand ftill ftir ftrange fuch fure fwear fweet give hand hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honour houfe houſe huſband Illyria itſelf James Gurney John King King John knave Lady Lord Madam mafter Malvolio Melun miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Narbon Phil pleaſe pr'ythee pray prefent purpoſe reafon ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe Shep Sir Toby ſpeak ſtay tell thee thefe there's theſe thine thofe thou art thouſand whofe wife worfe your's yourſelf
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Стр. 116 - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is 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. 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. 330 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Стр. 82 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Стр. 57 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together...