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answer APEM Apemantus appears Athens believe better blood called Cloten comes common correction Cymbeline dead death edition editors emendation Enter expression eyes false fear folio fool fortune give given gods gold hand Hanmer hath hear heart heaven Henry honour Imogen Italy Johnson keep kind King lady leave less live look lord MALONE Mason master means Measure metre mind mistress nature never noble observed occurs old copy once passage Perhaps play poet poor Post Posthumus present Queen Roman says SCENE seems seen sense SERV servant Shakspeare speak speech stand STEEVENS suppose sure tell thee thing Thomas thou thou art thought Timon true villain WARBURTON word
Page 163 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Page 165 - Call for the robin redbreast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm, And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm : But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Page 401 - I'll example you with thievery: The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun...
Page 89 - O! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men, as angels, without feminine; Or find some other way to generate Mankind?
Page 326 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.
Page 368 - Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee Calls back the lovely April of her prime ; So thou through windows of thine age shalt see, Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.
Page 363 - Thus much of this, will make Black, white; foul, fair; wrong, right; Base, noble; old, young; coward, valiant. Ha, you gods ! why this ? What this, you gods ? Why this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides ; Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd ; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...