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appears arms Attendants Bast bear better blood Boling Bolingbroke born breath bring cause child comes crown daughter dead death doth Duke earth England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith father fear folio fortune France friends Gaunt give grace grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Henry hold honour hour I'll John keep king knight lady land leave Leon live look lord means mother nature never noble old copies once passage Paul peace Pericles play poor present prince quartos queen rest Rich Richard royal SCENE seems sense Shakespeare sorrow soul speak stand sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought tongue true wife York young
Page 315 - 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.
Page 73 - Say there be ; Yet nature is made better by no mean, But nature makes that mean : so, o'er that art Which you say adds to nature, is an art That nature makes. You see, sweet maid, we marry A gentler scion to the wildest stock, And make conceive a bark of baser kind By bud of nobler race : this is an art ~\\ hich does mend nature, — change it rather ; but The art itself is nature.
Page 383 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Page 57 - I would, there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; or that youth would sleep out the rest : for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting.
Page 311 - Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Page 423 - Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me I am a king?