The Dramatic Works: Of Shakespeare, in Six Volumes; with Notes by Joseph Rann, ...at the Clarendon Press, M DCC LXXXVI. To be had of Mess. Rivington, London; Mess. Prince and Cooke and C. Selwin Rann, Oxford; and of Mess. Pearson and Rollason, Birmingham, 1789 |
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Page 58
Why , this is kindly done . Pan . My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have ,
sweet queen . Helen . She shall have it , my lord , if it be not my lord Paris . Pan .
He ! no , she'll none of him ; they two are twain -My cousin will fall out with you .
Why , this is kindly done . Pan . My niece is horribly in love with a thing you have ,
sweet queen . Helen . She shall have it , my lord , if it be not my lord Paris . Pan .
He ! no , she'll none of him ; they two are twain -My cousin will fall out with you .
Page 71
Tis certain , Greatness , once fallen out with fortune , Muft fall out with men too :
What the declin'd is , He shall as soon read in the eyes of others , As feel in his
own fall : for men , like butterflies , Shew not their mealy wings , but to the summer
...
Tis certain , Greatness , once fallen out with fortune , Muft fall out with men too :
What the declin'd is , He shall as soon read in the eyes of others , As feel in his
own fall : for men , like butterflies , Shew not their mealy wings , but to the summer
...
Page 232
But , alack , You snatch some hence for little faulis ; that's love , To have them fall
no more : you some permit To second ills with ills , Reach elder worse ; And
make them dread it , to the doers ' thrift . But Imogen is your own : Do your best
wills ...
But , alack , You snatch some hence for little faulis ; that's love , To have them fall
no more : you some permit To second ills with ills , Reach elder worse ; And
make them dread it , to the doers ' thrift . But Imogen is your own : Do your best
wills ...
Page 256
Cym , My tears , that fall , Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen , Thy mother's dead .
Imo . I am sorry for't , my lord . Cym . O , she was naught ; and long of her it was ,
That we meet here so strangely : But her son Is gone , we know not how , nor ...
Cym , My tears , that fall , Prove holy water on thee ! Imogen , Thy mother's dead .
Imo . I am sorry for't , my lord . Cym . O , she was naught ; and long of her it was ,
That we meet here so strangely : But her son Is gone , we know not how , nor ...
Page 263
Wben as a lion's whelp fall , to bimself unknown , with . out seeking find , and be
embrac'd by a piece of tender air ; and when from a stately cedar Mall be lopt
branches , which , being dead many years , fall after revive , be jointed to the old
...
Wben as a lion's whelp fall , to bimself unknown , with . out seeking find , and be
embrac'd by a piece of tender air ; and when from a stately cedar Mall be lopt
branches , which , being dead many years , fall after revive , be jointed to the old
...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles againſt Ajax anſwer arms bear better blood Boling breath bring brother comes couſin dead death doth England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fall father fear fellow fight firſt France friends give gone grace grief hand Harry haſt hath head hear heart heaven Hector Henry himſelf hold honour hour I'll Italy John keep king lady land leave live look lord majeſty maſter means meet moſt muſt myſelf never night noble peace play Poins poor pray prince Queen Rich Richard ſay ſee ſet ſhall ſhe ſhould ſir ſome ſon ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſtill ſuch ſweet ſword tell thee theſe thing thoſe thou art thought tongue Troi Troilus true truth whoſe York young
Popular passages
Page 319 - 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.
Page 558 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of • it. Honour is a mere scutcheon : and so ends my catechism.
Page 417 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and...
Page 327 - 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.
Page 558 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Page 22 - Amidst the other : whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander.