The plays of William Shakspeare, accurately pr. from the text of mr. Steevens's last ed., with a selection of the most important notes [collected by J. Nichols].

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1797
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Page 420 - Heaven doth with us, as we with torches do ; Not light them for themselves : for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike As if we had them not.
Page 434 - Stands at a guard with envy ; scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite Is more to bread than stone : hence shall we see, If power change purpose, what our seemers be.
Page 34 - I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things ; for no kind of traffic Would I admit ; no name of magistrate ; Letters should not be known : riches, poverty, And use of service, none ; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none : No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil : No occupation ; all men idle, all ; And women too ; but innocent and...
Page 23 - You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse : The red plague rid you, For learning me your language ! Pro.
Page 420 - There is a history in all men's lives, Figuring the nature of the times deceased ; The which observed, a man may prophesy, With a near aim, of the main chance of things As yet not come to life, which in their seeds And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Page 452 - Alas ! alas ! Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once; And He that might the vantage best have took, Found out the remedy: how would you be, If He, which is the top of judgment, should But judge you as you are ? O, think on that ; And mercy then will breathe within your lips, Like man new made.
Page 303 - If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.
Page 227 - The rest complains of cares to come. The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle...
Page xvi - He had by a misfortune common enough to young fellows, fallen into ill company, and amongst them, some that made a frequent practice of deer-stealing engaged him more than once in robbing a park that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy, of Charlecote, near Stratford. For this he was prosecuted by that gentleman, as he thought, somewhat too severely...
Page 227 - The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me and be my love.

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