¡°The¡± works of Shakespeare, 3±ÇA. Bettesworth, 1733 |
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19 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fweet afpects : I am not Adriana , nor thy wife . The time was once , when thou , unurg'd , wouldst vow , That neve words were mufick to thine ear , That never object pleafing in thine eye , That never Touch well welcome to thy Hand ...
... fweet afpects : I am not Adriana , nor thy wife . The time was once , when thou , unurg'd , wouldst vow , That neve words were mufick to thine ear , That never object pleafing in thine eye , That never Touch well welcome to thy Hand ...
28 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fweet , speak fair , become disloyalty : Apparel vice , like virtue's harbinger ; Bear a fair prefence , tho ' your heart be tainted : Teach fin the carriage of a holy faint ; Be fecret - falfe : what need fhe be acquainted ? What ...
... fweet , speak fair , become disloyalty : Apparel vice , like virtue's harbinger ; Bear a fair prefence , tho ' your heart be tainted : Teach fin the carriage of a holy faint ; Be fecret - falfe : what need fhe be acquainted ? What ...
29 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife . S. Ant . Sweet mistress , ( what your name is elfe , I know not ; Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine :) Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you fhow not Than our earth's wonder , more than ...
... fweet breath of flattery conquers ftrife . S. Ant . Sweet mistress , ( what your name is elfe , I know not ; Nor by what wonder you do hit of mine :) Lefs in your knowledge and your grace you fhow not Than our earth's wonder , more than ...
30 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fweet love , as look on night . Luc . Why call you me , love ? call my fifter fo . S. Ant . Thy fifter's fifter . Luc . That's my fifter . S. Ant . No ; It is thy felf , mine own felf's better part : Mine eye's clear eye , my dear ...
... fweet love , as look on night . Luc . Why call you me , love ? call my fifter fo . S. Ant . Thy fifter's fifter . Luc . That's my fifter . S. Ant . No ; It is thy felf , mine own felf's better part : Mine eye's clear eye , my dear ...
39 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fweet now make hafte . Luc . How haft thou loft thy breath ? S. Dro . By running fast . Adr . Where is thy mafter , Dromio ? is he well ? S. Dro . No , he's in Tartar Limbo , worse than hell ; A devil in an everlasting garment hath him ...
... fweet now make hafte . Luc . How haft thou loft thy breath ? S. Dro . By running fast . Adr . Where is thy mafter , Dromio ? is he well ? S. Dro . No , he's in Tartar Limbo , worse than hell ; A devil in an everlasting garment hath him ...
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againſt anfwer Antipholis art thou Bard Bardolph blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke call'd Camillo coufin death doth Dromio Duke Enter Ev'n Exeunt Exit eyes faid Falstaff father Faulc Faulconbridge fear feems felf felves fent fhall fhame fhew fhould fince firft flain fome foul fpeak ftand ftill ftir fuch fure fwear fweet fword Gaunt Grace hand hath hear heart heav'n Henry himſelf Hoft honour horfe houſe Juft King Lady look lord lord of Westmorland mafter Majefty moft morrow moſt muft muſt noble Northumberland Paffage peace Percy pleaſe Poins pray prefent Prince Prince of Wales purpoſe Queen reafon reft Rich SCENE changes ſelf Shal ſhall Sir John ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou art thouſand tongue villain Weft whofe Whoſe word worfe