“The” Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of Mr. Steeven's Last Edition, with a Selection of the Most Important Notes, Band 6
G. Fleischer the younger, 1806
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ancient appears Baptista bear believe better Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia bring Camillo Clown comes copy daughter death Enter Exeunt Exit expression eyes fair father fear give Gremio hand hast hath hear heart Hermione hold honour Hortensio I'll JOHNSON Kath keep kind King lady leave Leon Leontes live look Lord Lucentio MALONE married MASON master means mistress nature never observes once passage Paul perhaps Petruchio play Polixenes poor pray present Prince Queen reason SCENE seems sense Serv Servant Shakspeare Shep Signior speak stand stay STEEVENS suppose sweet taken tell term thee thing thou thought Tranio true WARBURTON wife young
Seite 87 - Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign ; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance : commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land...
Seite 152 - Yet nature is made better by no mean But nature makes that mean; so over that art, Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race. This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Seite 88 - I am ashamed that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace, Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway. When they are bound to serve, love and obey.
Seite 88 - While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the prince...
Seite 152 - Here's flowers for you: Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram ; The marigold, that goes to bed with the sun, And with him rises, weeping; these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.
Seite 153 - O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let'st fall From Dis's waggon ! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes Or Cytherea's breath ; pale primroses, That die unmarried, ere they can behold Bright Phoebus in his strength, a malady Most incident to maids...