The Plays of William Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes, with the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators ; to which are Added Notes by Sam. Johnson, Volume 3
J. and R. Tonson, C. Corbet, H. Woodfall, J. Rivington, R. Baldwin, L. Hawes, Clark and Collins, W. Johnston, T. Caslon, T. Lownds, and the executors of B. Dodd, 1765
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againſt anfwer Antipholis Beat Beatrice becauſe Benedick Bianca Bion Cath Catharine Claud Claudio Coufin Count daughter doft Dogb doth Dromio Duke elfe Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fafe faid father fatire Faulc Faulconbridge feems fenfe fent ferve fhall fhame fhew fhould fince firft fome foul fpeak France ftand fuch fure fwear fweet Gremio hath hear heav'n Hero himſelf honour Hortenfio houfe houſe huſband John Kate King King John knave lady Leon Leonato Lord Lucentio Madam mafter marry miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf never Padua paffage Pedro Petruchio pleaſe pray prefent Prince purpoſe reafon reft SCENE Shakespeare ſhall ſhe Signior ſpeak tell thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thine thofe thou art Tranio uſed villain WARBURTON whofe wife word worfe
Página 465 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Página 457 - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
Página 499 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Página 456 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.