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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Strana 7
... heav'n more will , That thee may furnish , and my prayers pluck down , Fall on thy head ! Farewel , my lord ; i ' Tis an unfeafon'd courtier , good my lord , Advife him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love ...
... heav'n more will , That thee may furnish , and my prayers pluck down , Fall on thy head ! Farewel , my lord ; i ' Tis an unfeafon'd courtier , good my lord , Advife him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love ...
Strana 11
... heav'n . The fated sky Gives us free scope ; only , doth backward pull Our flow defigns , when we ourselves are dull . What power is it , which mounts my love fo high , That makes me fee , and cannot feed mine eye ? The mightiest space ...
... heav'n . The fated sky Gives us free scope ; only , doth backward pull Our flow defigns , when we ourselves are dull . What power is it , which mounts my love fo high , That makes me fee , and cannot feed mine eye ? The mightiest space ...
Strana 19
... heav'n , So I were not his fifter : can't no other , But I your daughter , he must be my brother ? — Count . Yes , Helen , you might be my daughter - in - law ; God fhield , you mean it not , daughter and mother So ftrive upon your ...
... heav'n , So I were not his fifter : can't no other , But I your daughter , he must be my brother ? — Count . Yes , Helen , you might be my daughter - in - law ; God fhield , you mean it not , daughter and mother So ftrive upon your ...
Strana 20
... heav'n fhall work in me for thine avail , To tell me truly . Hel . Good Madam , pardon me . Count . Do you love my fon ? Hel . Your pardon , noble mistress . Count . Love you my fon ? Hel . Do not you love him , Madam ? Count . Go not ...
... heav'n fhall work in me for thine avail , To tell me truly . Hel . Good Madam , pardon me . Count . Do you love my fon ? Hel . Your pardon , noble mistress . Count . Love you my fon ? Hel . Do not you love him , Madam ? Count . Go not ...
Strana 21
... heav'n , I love your fon : My friends were poor , but honeft ; fo's my love ; Be not offended ; for it hurts not him , That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not By any token of prefumptuous fuit ; Nor would I have him , ' till I do ...
... heav'n , I love your fon : My friends were poor , but honeft ; fo's my love ; Be not offended ; for it hurts not him , That he is lov'd of me ; I follow him not By any token of prefumptuous fuit ; Nor would I have him , ' till I do ...
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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
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.