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. 6
... hour ; to fit , and draw His arched brows , his hawking eye , his curls , In our heart's table ; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his fweet favour !. But now he's gone , and my idolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relics . Who ...
... hour ; to fit , and draw His arched brows , his hawking eye , his curls , In our heart's table ; heart too capable Of every line and trick of his fweet favour !. But now he's gone , and my idolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relics . Who ...
Стр. 18
... hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen , thou fhalt have my leave and love ; Means and attendants ; and my loving greetings To thofe of mine in court . I'll ftay at home , And pray God's ...
... hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen , thou fhalt have my leave and love ; Means and attendants ; and my loving greetings To thofe of mine in court . I'll ftay at home , And pray God's ...
Стр. 33
... hours younger , I'd beat thee . Methinks thou art a general offence , and every man fhould beat thee . I think thou waft created for men to breathe themfelves upon thee . Par . This is hard and undeserved measure , my Lord . Laf . Go to ...
... hours younger , I'd beat thee . Methinks thou art a general offence , and every man fhould beat thee . I think thou waft created for men to breathe themfelves upon thee . Par . This is hard and undeserved measure , my Lord . Laf . Go to ...
Стр. 36
... hour o'erflow with joy , And pleasure drown the brim , Hel . What his will elfe ? Par . That you will take your inftant leave o ' th ' King , And make this hafte as your own good proceeding ; Strengthen'd with what apology you think May ...
... hour o'erflow with joy , And pleasure drown the brim , Hel . What his will elfe ? Par . That you will take your inftant leave o ' th ' King , And make this hafte as your own good proceeding ; Strengthen'd with what apology you think May ...
Стр. 53
... hours in a fleep , and then to return and swear the lyes he forges . Enter Parolles . Par . Ten o'clock ; within thefe three hours ' twill be time enough to go home . What fhall I fay time Sc . 1. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . 53 Where ...
... hours in a fleep , and then to return and swear the lyes he forges . Enter Parolles . Par . Ten o'clock ; within thefe three hours ' twill be time enough to go home . What fhall I fay time Sc . 1. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . 53 Where ...
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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...