A Concordance to Shakespeare: Suited to All the Editions, in which the Distinguished and Parallel Passages in the Plays of that Justly Admired Writer are Methodically Arranged. To which are Added, Three Hundred Notes and Illustrations, Entirely NewG.G.J. and J. Robinson, 1787 - 470 стор. |
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Сторінка 12
... fortune ; honour , for his valour ; and death , for his ambition . Julius Cæfar , A. 3 , S. 2 . He hath brought many captives home to Rome , Unto our gentle fenfes ] How odd a character is this of the air , that it recommends itfelf to ...
... fortune ; honour , for his valour ; and death , for his ambition . Julius Cæfar , A. 3 , S. 2 . He hath brought many captives home to Rome , Unto our gentle fenfes ] How odd a character is this of the air , that it recommends itfelf to ...
Сторінка 36
... fortune comes to years , Stands for my bounty . Richard II . A. 2 , S. 3 . For his bounty , There was no winter in't ; an autumn ' twas , That grew the more by reaping : his delights Were dolphin - like ; they fhew'd his back above ...
... fortune comes to years , Stands for my bounty . Richard II . A. 2 , S. 3 . For his bounty , There was no winter in't ; an autumn ' twas , That grew the more by reaping : his delights Were dolphin - like ; they fhew'd his back above ...
Сторінка 61
... fortune's champion , that doft never fight , But when her humorous ladyfhip is by To teach thee fafety ! I. King John , A. 3 , S. 1 . ( In my heart Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will ) We'll have a swashing and a martial ...
... fortune's champion , that doft never fight , But when her humorous ladyfhip is by To teach thee fafety ! I. King John , A. 3 , S. 1 . ( In my heart Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will ) We'll have a swashing and a martial ...
Сторінка 76
... fortunes ! Henry IV . P. 2 , A. 1 , S. 1 . O , that a man might know The end of this day's bufinefs , ere it come ! But it fufficeth , that the day will end , And then the end is known . - J . Cæfar , A. 5 , So I were out of prifon ...
... fortunes ! Henry IV . P. 2 , A. 1 , S. 1 . O , that a man might know The end of this day's bufinefs , ere it come ! But it fufficeth , that the day will end , And then the end is known . - J . Cæfar , A. 5 , So I were out of prifon ...
Сторінка 80
... fortune given me measure of revenge . Henry VI . P. 3 , A. 2 , S. 3 . Her blood is fettled , and her joints are stiff , Life and these lips have long been separated ; Death lies on her , like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower ...
... fortune given me measure of revenge . Henry VI . P. 3 , A. 2 , S. 3 . Her blood is fettled , and her joints are stiff , Life and these lips have long been separated ; Death lies on her , like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower ...
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A Concordance to Shakespeare: Suited to All the Editions, in Which the ... Andrew Becket Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
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againſt All's Antony and Cleopatra beſt blood Coriolanus Cymbeline death doft doth expreffion eyes faid fear feems fenfe fhall fhew fhould fignify firſt fleep fome fool forrow foul fpeak fpirit ftand ftill fuch fuppofe furely fweet fword Gentlemen of Verona grief Hamlet hath heart heaven Henry IV Henry V. A. Henry VI Henry VIII himſelf honour itſelf JOHNSON Julius Cæfar King John Lear lord Love's Labour Loft Meafure for Meaſure means Merchant of Venice Midfummer Night's Dream moft moſt muft muſt myſelf noble o'er obferve Othello paffage paffion praiſe prefent reafon Richard Richard II Shakeſpeare ſhall ſhe ſhould read ſpeak ſpeech ſtand ſtate STEEVENS tears Tempeft thee thefe themſelves theſe thing thofe thoſe thou art thouſand Timon of Athens tongue Troilus and Creffida Twelfth Night uſe virtue WARBURTON whofe Whoſe Winter's Tale word
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Сторінка 343 - Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid. Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut , Made by the joiner squirrel , or old grub , Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers...
Сторінка 12 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honour him; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.
Сторінка 67 - 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...
Сторінка 162 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
Сторінка 298 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ. Yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
Сторінка 14 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Сторінка 139 - 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.
Сторінка 61 - Cowards die many times before their deaths ; The valiant never taste of death but once. Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, It seems to me most strange that men should fear; Seeing that death, a necessary end, Will come when it will come.
Сторінка 463 - His nature is too noble for the world : He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his mouth : What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent ; And, being angry, does forget that ever He heard the name of death.
Сторінка 94 - True, I talk of dreams ; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air, And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.