The works of Shakespear [ed. by H. Blair], in which the beauties observed by Pope, Warburton and Dodd are pointed out, together with the author's life; a glossary [&c.]. |
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Page 5
... heav'n more will , That thee may furnish , and my pray'rs pluck down , Fall on thy head ; farewel , my Lord ; ' Tis an unfeason'd courtier , good my Lord , Advise him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love . Count ...
... heav'n more will , That thee may furnish , and my pray'rs pluck down , Fall on thy head ; farewel , my Lord ; ' Tis an unfeason'd courtier , good my Lord , Advise him . Laf . He cannot want the best , That fhall attend his love . Count ...
Page 9
... 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 in ...
... 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 in ...
Page 16
... 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 pulfe ...
... 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 pulfe ...
Page 18
... heav'n ; and , would your Honour But give me leave to try fuccefs , I'd venture The well - loft life of mine on his Grace's cure , By fuch a day and hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen ...
... heav'n ; and , would your Honour But give me leave to try fuccefs , I'd venture The well - loft life of mine on his Grace's cure , By fuch a day and hour . Count . Doft thou believe't ? Hel . Ay , Madam , knowingly . Count . Why , Helen ...
Page 23
... Heav'n we count the act of men . Dear Sir , to my endeavours give confent , Of Heav'n , not me , make an experiment . I am not an impoftor , that proclaim Myself against the level of mine aim ; But know I think , and think I know moft ...
... Heav'n we count the act of men . Dear Sir , to my endeavours give confent , Of Heav'n , not me , make an experiment . I am not an impoftor , that proclaim Myself against the level of mine aim ; But know I think , and think I know moft ...
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Common terms and phrases
againſt anſwer Antipholis Arth beſt Bithynia blood buſineſs Camillo Conft Count defire doft doth Dromio Duke elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid father Faulc Faulconbridge feem fent ferve fervice fhall fhame fhew fhould fifter fince firſt fome fool foul fpeak fpirit France ftand ftill ftir ftrange fuch fure fwear fweet give hand hath hear heart heav'n himſelf honour houfe houſe huſband Illyria itſelf James Gurney John King King John knave Lady Lord Madam mafter Malvolio Melun miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Narbon Phil pleaſe pr'ythee pray prefent purpoſe reafon ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe Shep Sir Toby ſpeak ſtay tell thee thefe there's theſe thine thofe thou art thouſand whofe wife worfe your's yourſelf
Popular passages
Page 116 - 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.
Page 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.
Page 330 - 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 82 - 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.
Page 57 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together...