The Works of Shakespear in Eight Volumes: The Genuine Text (collated with All the Former Editions, and Then Corrected and Emended) is Here Settled: Being Restored from the Blunders of the First Editors, and the Interpolations of the Two Last: with a Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory

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J. and P. Knapton, S. Birt, T. Longman and T. Shewell, H. Lintott, C. Hitch, J. Brindley, J. and R. Tonso and S. Droper, R. Wellington, E. New, and B. Dod., 1747
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 314 - I know thee not, old man: Fall to thy prayers ; How ill white hairs become a fool, and jester!
الصفحة 117 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon ; Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowne'd honour by the locks...
الصفحة 255 - O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
الصفحة 193 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of • it. Honour is a mere scutcheon : and so ends my catechism.
الصفحة 193 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
الصفحة 256 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast Seal up the shipboy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge ; And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
الصفحة 258 - 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.
الصفحة 109 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners. But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat...
الصفحة 26 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry...
الصفحة 59 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an alms-man's gown, My...

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