The Works of Shakespeare: Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected, Band 3 |
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Seite 8
Twas pretty , tho ' a plague , To fee him every hour ; to fit and draw His arched brows , his hawking eye , his curls , In our heart's table : hears , too capable Of every line and trick of his fweet favour ! But now he's gone , and my ...
Twas pretty , tho ' a plague , To fee him every hour ; to fit and draw His arched brows , his hawking eye , his curls , In our heart's table : hears , too capable Of every line and trick of his fweet favour ! But now he's gone , and my ...
Seite 10
... a traitrefs , and a dear ; His humble ambition , proud humility ; His jarring concord ; and his difcord dulcet ; His faith , his fweet difafter ; with a world Of pretty fond adoptious christendoms , That blinking Cupid goffips .
... a traitrefs , and a dear ; His humble ambition , proud humility ; His jarring concord ; and his difcord dulcet ; His faith , his fweet difafter ; with a world Of pretty fond adoptious christendoms , That blinking Cupid goffips .
Seite 25
Oh , my fweet Lord , that you will stay be- hind us ! Par . ' Tis not his fault ; the fpark 2 Lord . Oh , ' tis brave wars . Par . Moft admirable ; I have feen thofe wars . Ber . I am commanded here , and kept a coil with , Too young ...
Oh , my fweet Lord , that you will stay be- hind us ! Par . ' Tis not his fault ; the fpark 2 Lord . Oh , ' tis brave wars . Par . Moft admirable ; I have feen thofe wars . Ber . I am commanded here , and kept a coil with , Too young ...
Seite 42
Undone , and forfeited to cares for ever ? Par . What is the matter , fweet heart ? Ber . Although before the folemn prieft I've fworn , I will not bed her . Par Par . What ? what , sweet heart ? Ber 42 ALL'S well , that ENDS well .
Undone , and forfeited to cares for ever ? Par . What is the matter , fweet heart ? Ber . Although before the folemn prieft I've fworn , I will not bed her . Par Par . What ? what , sweet heart ? Ber 42 ALL'S well , that ENDS well .
Seite 69
I pr'ythee , do not ftrive against my vows : I was compell'd to her , but I love thee By love's own fweet constraint , and will for ever Do thee all rights of fervice . Dia . Ay , fo you serve us , ' Till we ferve you : but when you ...
I pr'ythee , do not ftrive against my vows : I was compell'd to her , but I love thee By love's own fweet constraint , and will for ever Do thee all rights of fervice . Dia . Ay , fo you serve us , ' Till we ferve you : but when you ...
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bear better blood bring brother changes comes Count daughter dear death doth Duke ears Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith father fear feems fellow fhall fhould fince fome fool fortune foul fpeak France ftand fuch fweet give gone hand hath hear heart heav'n hold honour hope hour I'll John keep King Lady leave live look Lord Madam mafter Marry mean moft mother muft nature never night Paul peace play poor pray Prince Queen SCENE ſhall ſpeak tell thanks thee thefe there's theſe thine thing thou thou art thought tongue true whofe wife young
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Seite 103 - 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.
Seite 396 - 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 5 Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Seite 260 - Skulking in corners ? wishing clocks more swift ? Hours, minutes ? noon, midnight ? and all eyes blind With the pin and web,' but theirs, theirs only, That would unseen be wicked ? is this nothing ? Why, then the world, and all that's in't, is nothing; The covering sky is nothing ; Bohemia nothing; My wife is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, If this be nothing.
Seite 142 - 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.