The Works of Shakespear: As you like it. The taming of the shrew. All's well, that ends well. Twelfth-night: or, What you will
Robert Martin, 1768
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attend bear better Bianca bring brother Cath Changes comes Count Court daughter dear doth Duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fear fellow fhall fhould fome fool fortune foul friends fuch fweet give Gremio hand hath hear heart hold honour hope Hortenfio hour houſe I'll keep King knave Lady leave live look Lord Lucentio Madam mafter maid marry mean moft muft muſt myſelf nature never night Orla Petruchio play pleaſe poor pray ring Rofalind ſay SCENE ſhall ſhe ſpeak tell thank thee there's theſe thing thou thou art thought Tranio true wife woman young youth
Pagina 33 - I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please...
Pagina 306 - 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.
Pagina 32 - 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.
Pagina 25 - Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
Pagina 63 - Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night ; for good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the cramp, was drowned, and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was — Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies ; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
Pagina 21 - The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,— This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.