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 186
Pr'ythee , speak , How many score of miles may we well ride ' Twixt hour and
hour ? Pif . One score , ' twixt sun and sun , Madam , ' s enough for you , and too
much too . Imo . Why , one that rode to his execution , man , Could never go fo
Now ...
Pr'ythee , speak , How many score of miles may we well ride ' Twixt hour and
hour ? Pif . One score , ' twixt sun and sun , Madam , ' s enough for you , and too
much too . Imo . Why , one that rode to his execution , man , Could never go fo
Now ...
Page 210
Posthumus , thy head , which is now growing upon thy Thoulders , shall within
this hour be off ; thy mistress en• in fingle oppositions : ] —duels . imperseverant )
-perlevering , obstinate , forced ; forced ; thy garments cut to pieces before & her ...
Posthumus , thy head , which is now growing upon thy Thoulders , shall within
this hour be off ; thy mistress en• in fingle oppositions : ] —duels . imperseverant )
-perlevering , obstinate , forced ; forced ; thy garments cut to pieces before & her ...
Page 311
O fair return of banish'd majesty ! Eli . O foul revolt of French inconftancy ! K. John
. France , thou shalt rue this hour within this hour . Fauls . Old time the clock -
setter , that bald fexton timer Is it as he will ? well then , France shall rue . Blanch .
O fair return of banish'd majesty ! Eli . O foul revolt of French inconftancy ! K. John
. France , thou shalt rue this hour within this hour . Fauls . Old time the clock -
setter , that bald fexton timer Is it as he will ? well then , France shall rue . Blanch .
Page 323
When your head did but ake , I knit my handkerchief about your brows , ( The best
I had , a princess wrought it me ) And I did never ask it you again : And with my
hand at midnight held your head ; And , like the watchful minutes to the hour , Pa
...
When your head did but ake , I knit my handkerchief about your brows , ( The best
I had , a princess wrought it me ) And I did never ask it you again : And with my
hand at midnight held your head ; And , like the watchful minutes to the hour , Pa
...
Page 457
Now , sir , the sounds that tell what hour it is , Are clamorous groans , that strike
upon my heart , Which is the bell : So sighs , and tears , and groans , Shew
minutes , times , and hours : -- but my time Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's
proud joy ...
Now , sir , the sounds that tell what hour it is , Are clamorous groans , that strike
upon my heart , Which is the bell : So sighs , and tears , and groans , Shew
minutes , times , and hours : -- but my time Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's
proud joy ...
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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.