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The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, Volum 4
Visualitzaciķ completa - 1709
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear [sic], Volum 7
Visualitzaciķ de fragments - 1999
Antony bear beſt better Blood bring Brother Captain Cleo comes Crom Cromwell Daughter dead Death doth Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes fair Faith fall Fath Father fear firſt Flow follow Fortune Friends give Gods Gold gone Hand hath Head hear Heart Heav'n himſelf hold Honour hope Houſe Husband I'll Italy keep King Knight Lady Lanc Land leave live look Lord Madam marry Maſter mean Mind Miſtreſs Mony moſt muſt Name ne'er never noble once Peace pleaſe poor pray Prieſt Prince Queen ſay SCENE ſee ſelf ſhall ſhe ſhould Soldiers ſome ſpeak ſtand ſuch ſweet Sword tell thank thee there's theſe thing thoſe thou thought true unto what's whoſe Wife World young
Pāgina 2826 - O, wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fall'n : young boys and girls Are level now with men ; the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon.
Pāgina 2761 - Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, To rot itself with motion.
Pāgina 2804 - Mine honesty and I begin to square. The loyalty well held to fools does make Our faith mere folly : yet he that can endure To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord Does conquer him that did his master conquer, And earns a place i
Pāgina 2837 - Give me my robe, put on my crown ; I have Immortal longings in me : Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick.
Pāgina 2829 - My desolation does begin to make A better life : Tis paltry to be Caesar; Not being fortune, he's but fortune's knave, A minister of her will ; And it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds ; Which shackles accidents, and bolts up change; Which sleeps, and never palates more the dung, The beggar's nurse and Caesar's.
Pāgina 2907 - Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath...
Pāgina 2804 - I see, men's judgments are A parcel of their fortunes ; and things outward Do draw the inward quality after them, To suffer all alike.