The Plays of William Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes, Volume 8 |
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Page 12
Oh , any thing of nothing firft create ! O heavy lightnefs ! ferious vanity ! Mif - fhapen chaos of well - feeming forms ! Feather of lead , bright smoke , cold fire , fick health ! Still - waking fleep , that is not what it is !
Oh , any thing of nothing firft create ! O heavy lightnefs ! ferious vanity ! Mif - fhapen chaos of well - feeming forms ! Feather of lead , bright smoke , cold fire , fick health ! Still - waking fleep , that is not what it is !
Page 16
So again in this play , Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night , ear . Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's WARBURTON . But why nonfense ? Is any thing more commonly faid , than that beauties eclipfe the fun ? Has not Pope the thought and ...
So again in this play , Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night , ear . Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's WARBURTON . But why nonfense ? Is any thing more commonly faid , than that beauties eclipfe the fun ? Has not Pope the thought and ...
Page 17
But , I pray , Can you read any thing you fee ? Rom . Ay , if I know the letters and the language . Serv . Ye fay honeftly . Reft you merry . Rom . Stay , fellow , I can read . VOL . VIII , с [ He I I [ He reads the lift . ] ...
But , I pray , Can you read any thing you fee ? Rom . Ay , if I know the letters and the language . Serv . Ye fay honeftly . Reft you merry . Rom . Stay , fellow , I can read . VOL . VIII , с [ He I I [ He reads the lift . ] ...
Page 23
Madam , the guests are come , fupper ferv'd up , you call'd , my young lady afk'd for , the nurse curft in the pantry , and every thing in extremity . I muft hence to wait ; I befeech you , follow ftrait . La . Cap . We follow thee .
Madam , the guests are come , fupper ferv'd up , you call'd , my young lady afk'd for , the nurse curft in the pantry , and every thing in extremity . I muft hence to wait ; I befeech you , follow ftrait . La . Cap . We follow thee .
Page 24
... To foar with his light Feathers ; and fo bound , I cannot bound a pitch above dull Woe . Under Love's heavy burden do I fink . Mer . And to fink in it , fhould you burden Love , Too great Oppreffion for a tender Thing ! Rom .
... To foar with his light Feathers ; and fo bound , I cannot bound a pitch above dull Woe . Under Love's heavy burden do I fink . Mer . And to fink in it , fhould you burden Love , Too great Oppreffion for a tender Thing ! Rom .
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