The Works of Shakespeare in Twelve Volumes: Collated with the Oldest Copies and Corrected: with Notes Explanatory and Critical, 3권R. Crowder, 1772 |
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14 페이지
... give her most humble thanks : but that I will have a re- cheate winded in my forehead , or hang my bugle in an invisible baldric , all women fhall pardon me ; because I will not do them the wrong to mis- truft any , I will do myfelf the ...
... give her most humble thanks : but that I will have a re- cheate winded in my forehead , or hang my bugle in an invisible baldric , all women fhall pardon me ; because I will not do them the wrong to mis- truft any , I will do myfelf the ...
20 페이지
... give you intelligence of an in tended marriage . John . Will it ferve for any model to build mif- chief on ? what is he for a fool that betroths him-- felf to unquietnefs ? Bora . Marry , it is your brother's right hand . John . Who ...
... give you intelligence of an in tended marriage . John . Will it ferve for any model to build mif- chief on ? what is he for a fool that betroths him-- felf to unquietnefs ? Bora . Marry , it is your brother's right hand . John . Who ...
28 페이지
... wrong : I am not fo reputed . It is the bafe ( tho ' bitter ) difpofition of Beatrice that puts the world into her perfon , and so gives ine out : well , I'll be revenged as I may . Enter Don PEDRO . Pedro . Now , Signior , 28 MUCH A DO.
... wrong : I am not fo reputed . It is the bafe ( tho ' bitter ) difpofition of Beatrice that puts the world into her perfon , and so gives ine out : well , I'll be revenged as I may . Enter Don PEDRO . Pedro . Now , Signior , 28 MUCH A DO.
31 페이지
... give thee joy . Leon . Count , take of me my daughter , and with her my fortune : his Grace hath made the match , and all Grace fay Amen to it . Beat . Speak , Count , ' tis your cue .——— Claud . Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy ...
... give thee joy . Leon . Count , take of me my daughter , and with her my fortune : his Grace hath made the match , and all Grace fay Amen to it . Beat . Speak , Count , ' tis your cue .——— Claud . Silence is the perfecteft herald of joy ...
32 페이지
... give you joy . Leon . Niece , will you look to those things I told you of ? Beat . I cry you mercy , uncle : by your Grace's pardon . [ Exit Beatrice . Pedro . By my troth , a pleasant - spirited lady . Leon . There's little of the ...
... give you joy . Leon . Niece , will you look to those things I told you of ? Beat . I cry you mercy , uncle : by your Grace's pardon . [ Exit Beatrice . Pedro . By my troth , a pleasant - spirited lady . Leon . There's little of the ...
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Afide againſt Aglet anfwer Antigonus Aquitain Beat Beatrice becauſe Benedick Biron Bohemia Bora Borachio Boyet brother Camillo Claud Claudio Coft Coftard coufin daughter defire doft Dogb doth elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes faid fair Fair Ladies falfe father feems feen fenfe fhall fhame fhew fhould fince fing firſt fome fool foul fpeak Friar ftand fuch fure fwear fweet fworn gentleman grace hath hear heart Hermione Hero himſelf honeft honour Jaquenetta kifs King Lady lefs Leon Leonato Lord Madam mafter marry moft moſt Moth muft muſt myſelf Navarre never paffage Paul Paulina perfon pleaſe Polixenes Pompey praife praiſe pray prefent Prince Princefs Queen reafon Rofa ſhall ſhe Shep Sicilia Signior ſpeak ſtay tell thee thefe theſe thofe tongue troth whofe wife word yourſelf
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124 페이지 - Biron they call him ; but a merrier man, Within the limit of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal. His eye begets occasion for his wit ; For every object that the one doth catch, The other turns to a mirth-moving jest...
281 페이지 - For you there's rosemary and rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long: Grace and remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing!
229 페이지 - 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.
213 페이지 - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.