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 страници |
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Страница 2
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. I , Takes off the rofe . ] Alluding to the custom of wearing rofes WARBURTON . on the fide of the face . I believe Dr. Warburton is mistaken ; for it must be allowed that there is a material difference between an ...
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. I , Takes off the rofe . ] Alluding to the custom of wearing rofes WARBURTON . on the fide of the face . I believe Dr. Warburton is mistaken ; for it must be allowed that there is a material difference between an ...
Страница 16
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . I muft Tempeft , A. 4 , S. i . Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art I would I had beftow'd that time in the tongues , that I have in fencing , dancing , and bear - bating ; O , had I ...
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . I muft Tempeft , A. 4 , S. i . Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art I would I had beftow'd that time in the tongues , that I have in fencing , dancing , and bear - bating ; O , had I ...
Страница 46
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . Tempest , A. 3 , S. 3 . And thefe , mine enemies , are all knit up In their diftractions . I pray you all , tell me what they deserve , That do confpire my death with devilish plots Of damned witchcraft ; and ...
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . Tempest , A. 3 , S. 3 . And thefe , mine enemies , are all knit up In their diftractions . I pray you all , tell me what they deserve , That do confpire my death with devilish plots Of damned witchcraft ; and ...
Страница 53
... Tempest , A. 2 , S. 1 . Thus confcience does make cowards of us all ; And thus the native hue of refolution Is fickly'd o'er with the pale caft of thought ; And enterprizes of great pith and moment , With this regard , their currents ...
... Tempest , A. 2 , S. 1 . Thus confcience does make cowards of us all ; And thus the native hue of refolution Is fickly'd o'er with the pale caft of thought ; And enterprizes of great pith and moment , With this regard , their currents ...
Страница 64
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . I And on this couple drop a bleffed crown . Say to great Cæfar this , in difputation , ' I kifs his conquering hand : tell him , I am prompt To lay my crown at his feet , and there to kneel : Tell him , from his ...
... Tempest , A. 5 , S. 1 . I And on this couple drop a bleffed crown . Say to great Cæfar this , in difputation , ' I kifs his conquering hand : tell him , I am prompt To lay my crown at his feet , and there to kneel : Tell him , from his ...
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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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Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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...
Страница 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.
Страница 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?
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.
Страница 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.