Shakespeare Jest-books: Reprints of the Early and Very Rare Jest-books Supposed to Have Been Used by Shakespeare ...

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William Carew Hazlitt
Willis & Sotheran, 1864 - Chapbooks
 

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Page 12 - Muse, The place of fame and elegy supply: And many a holy text around she strews, That teach the rustic moralist to die.
Page 2 - Newly studied, with some Collections, but those never published before in this kinde. London. Printed by R.
Page 10 - That's good sauce to a pig," quoth the judge again. This put the serjeant out of all patience ; and speaking to those about him, " This," said he, " is on purpose to make me ridiculous.
Page 3 - THREE wise men of Gotham, Went to sea in a bowl : And if the bowl had been stronger, My song would have been longer.
Page 3 - As for Gotham, it doth breed as wise people as any which causelessly laugh at their simplicity. Sure I am, Mr. William de Gotham, fifth master of Michael House, in Cambridge, 1336, and twice Chancellor of the University, was as grave a governor as that age did afford.
Page 6 - On a time the men of Gotham would have pinned in the cuckoo, whereby she should sing all the year, and in the midst of the town they made a hedge round in compass, and they had got a cuckoo, and had put her into it, and said, " Sing here all the year, and thou shalt lack neither meat nor drink.
Page 15 - Hobson, hereupon, hung out a lanterne and candle unlighted, as the bedell again commanded ; whereupon he was sent again to the Counter ; but the next night, the bedell being better advised, cryed " Hang out your lanterne and candle light...
Page 49 - One asked another what Shakespeares works were worth, all being bound together. He answered, not a farthing. Not worth a farthing ! said he ; why so ? He answered that his plays were worth a great deale of mony, but he never heard, that his works were worth any thing at all.
Page 6 - Thay seigh a cart, that chargid was with hay, Which that a carter drof forth in his way. Deep was the way, for which the carte stood : This carter smoot, and cryde as he wer wood, " Hayt, brok; hayt, stot; what spare ye for the stoones ? The fend...
Page 8 - Who, I, sir? I am Gluttony. My parents are all dead, and the devil a penny they have left me, but a bare pension, and that is thirty meals a day and ten bevers — a small trifle to suffice nature.

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