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, Svazek 3A. Donaldson, and sold at his shop, London; and at Edinburgh, 1771 |
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Strana 6
... fweet favour - But now he's gone , and my idolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relies . Who comes here ? Enter Parolles . One that goes with him : I love him for his fake , " And yet I know him a notorious lyar ; " Think him a great way ...
... fweet favour - But now he's gone , and my idolatrous fancy Muft fanctify his relies . Who comes here ? Enter Parolles . One that goes with him : I love him for his fake , " And yet I know him a notorious lyar ; " Think him a great way ...
Strana 8
... fweet difafter ; with a world Of pretty fond adoptious Chriftendoms , That blinking Cupid gofiips . Now shall he I know not , & c . # 2 Par . Par . That's for advantage . Hel . So is ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . Aût 1o.
... fweet difafter ; with a world Of pretty fond adoptious Chriftendoms , That blinking Cupid gofiips . Now shall he I know not , & c . # 2 Par . Par . That's for advantage . Hel . So is ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL . Aût 1o.
Strana 19
... fweet Lord , that you will ftay be- hind us ! Par . ' Tis not his fault ; the fpark- 2 Lord . Oh , ' tis brave wars . ہو I ' Par . Moft admirable ; I have feen those wars . Ber . I am commanded here , and kept a coil with , Too young ...
... fweet Lord , that you will ftay be- hind us ! Par . ' Tis not his fault ; the fpark- 2 Lord . Oh , ' tis brave wars . ہو I ' Par . Moft admirable ; I have feen those wars . Ber . I am commanded here , and kept a coil with , Too young ...
Strana 34
... fweet heart ! Ber . Although before the folemn pricft I've fworn , I will not bed her . Par . What ? what , fweet heart ! Ber . O my Parolles , they have married me : I'll to the Tufcan wars , and never bed her . Par . France is a dog ...
... fweet heart ! Ber . Although before the folemn pricft I've fworn , I will not bed her . Par . What ? what , fweet heart ! Ber . O my Parolles , they have married me : I'll to the Tufcan wars , and never bed her . Par . France is a dog ...
Strana 56
... fweet felf was got . Dia . She then was honeft . Ber . So fhould you Dia . No. be . My mother did but duty ; fuch , my Lord , As you owe to your wife . Ber . No more o ' that ! I pr'ythee do not strive against my vows : I was compell'd ...
... fweet felf was got . Dia . She then was honeft . Ber . So fhould you Dia . No. be . My mother did but duty ; fuch , my Lord , As you owe to your wife . Ber . No more o ' that ! I pr'ythee do not strive against my vows : I was compell'd ...
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Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 252 - This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 108 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek.