Stockdale's Edition of Shakespeare: Including, in One Volume, the Whole of His Dramatic Works with Explanatory Notes Compiled from Various Commentators
John Stockdale, 1784 - 1079 strán (strany)
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arms bear better blood bring brother comes daughter dead dear death doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fame father fear fhall fhould fight follow fome fool Ford fortune foul fpeak fuch fweet gentle give gone grace hand hath head hear heart heaven Henry hold honour hope hour I'll John keep kind king lady leave live look lord madam mafter marry means meet mind moft moſt muft muſt nature never night noble once peace play poor pray prefent prince Rich SCENE ſhall ſpeak tell thank thee thefe there's theſe thing thofe thou art thought tongue true whofe wife woman young youth
Strana 320 - 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.
Strana 429 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an alms-man's gown, My...
Strana 447 - But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...
Strana 10 - Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.
Strana 368 - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly; if the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch With his surcease success : that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, We'd jump the life to come.
Strana 232 - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven. And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale.
Strana 195 - That the graves, all gaping wide, Every one lets forth his sprite, In the church-way paths to glide...
Strana 369 - I go, and it is done: the bell invites me. Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.