The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected: with Notes, Explanatory and Critical:H. Lintott, 1740 |
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Стр. 49
... should he be kill'd ? Cle . So fay I , Madam , if he run away , as I hear he does ; the danger is in ftanding to't ; that's the lofs of men , though it be the getting of children . Here they come , will tell you more . For my part , I ...
... should he be kill'd ? Cle . So fay I , Madam , if he run away , as I hear he does ; the danger is in ftanding to't ; that's the lofs of men , though it be the getting of children . Here they come , will tell you more . For my part , I ...
Стр. 64
... should know what he is , and be that he is ? [ Afide . Par . I would , the cutting of my garments would ferve the turn , or the breaking of my Spanish fword . Lord . We cannot afford you fo . [ Afide . Par . Or the baring of my beard ...
... should know what he is , and be that he is ? [ Afide . Par . I would , the cutting of my garments would ferve the turn , or the breaking of my Spanish fword . Lord . We cannot afford you fo . [ Afide . Par . Or the baring of my beard ...
Стр. 66
... should be fuch a one As you are now , for you are cold and stern ; And now you fhould be as your Mother was , When fweet felf was got . your Dia . She then was honeft .. Ber . So fhould you be . Dia . No. My Mother did but duty ; fuch ...
... should be fuch a one As you are now , for you are cold and stern ; And now you fhould be as your Mother was , When fweet felf was got . your Dia . She then was honeft .. Ber . So fhould you be . Dia . No. My Mother did but duty ; fuch ...
Стр. 75
... should have , he has nothing . 1 Lord . I begin to love him for this . Ber . For this defcription of thine honesty ? a pox up- on him for me , he is more and more a cat . Int . What fay you to his expertness in war ? Par . Faith , Sir ...
... should have , he has nothing . 1 Lord . I begin to love him for this . Ber . For this defcription of thine honesty ? a pox up- on him for me , he is more and more a cat . Int . What fay you to his expertness in war ? Par . Faith , Sir ...
Стр. 78
... ? Mr. Warburton very reasonably conjectures , that we should read , and Time revyes us ; i . e , looks us in the Face , calls upon us to haften . All All's well , that ends well ; ftill the fine's 78 All's well , that Ends well .
... ? Mr. Warburton very reasonably conjectures , that we should read , and Time revyes us ; i . e , looks us in the Face , calls upon us to haften . All All's well , that ends well ; ftill the fine's 78 All's well , that Ends well .
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againſt anſwer Antigonus Antipholis blood Bohemia Camillo Conft Count defire doft thou doth Dromio Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid father Faulc Faulconbridge feems felf felves fent ferve fhall fhame fhew fhould fifter fince firft fome fool foul fpeak France ftand ftill ftir ftrange fuch fure fwear fweet give hand hath heart heav'n himſelf honour houſe i'th Illyria John King King John knave Lady loft Lord lyes Madam mafter Malvolio Marry Melun miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf night o'th pleaſe pray prefent purpoſe reaſon ſay SCENE changes ſhall ſhe Shep Sicilia Sir Andrew Ague-cheek Sir Toby ſpeak tell thee thefe there's theſe thine thofe thoſe thou art thouſand underſtand uſe whofe wife worfe
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Стр. 70 - 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. 137 - 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. 384 - 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. 295 - But nature makes that mean; so over that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Стр. 384 - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
Стр. 283 - I would, there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest: for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.
Стр. 101 - 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. 419 - 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.