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Excerpt from The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Vol. 9 of 10: Troilus and Cressida; Cymbeline; King Lear; Romeo and Juliet Clown. Ook you, the worm is not to be trusted, but in the keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no goodness in the worm. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Excerpt from The Works of William Shakespeare, Vol. 9 of 10 No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; As much as child e'er loved, or father found; A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; Beyond all manner of so much I love you. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Excerpt from The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare, Vol. 10 Bmheaslovinghisownprideandpurposea, Evades them; with abomhast circumstanceg, Horribly etufl'd withepithetsofwar. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1823 edition. Excerpt: ...is a spit: the' spires of churches are likewise so called in the northern counties, as Darnton broach. RITSON. 17 Sedate determination; silent coolness of resolution. JOITN80N. s1 I suppose the meaning of these strange words is, herfi trifling, you do not ve oA in carnal. JOHNSON. I can no more. Dies. deo. Noblest of men, woo't die.? Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide In, this dull world, which in thy absence is N"o better than a stye?--O, see, my women, Tlie crown o'the earth doth melt: --My lord!--O, -wither'd is the garland of the war, The soldier's pole is fallen;7 young boys, and girls, Are level now with men: the odds is gone, And there is nothing left remarkable Beneath the visiting moon. She faint f Char. O, quietness, lady! Iras. She is dead too, our sovereign. Char. Lady, --Iras. Madam, --Char. O madam, madam, madam! Iras. Royal Egypt! impress! Char. Peace, peace, Iras. Cleo. No more but e'n a woman;s and commanded By such poor passion as the maid that milks, And does the meanest chares.9--It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; To tell them, that this world did equal theirs, Till they had stolen our jewel. All's but naught; Patience is sottish; and impatience does Become a dog that's mad: Then is it sin, To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to us?--How do you, women? What, what? good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian My noble girls!--Ah, women, women! look, Our lamp is spent, it's out: --Good sirs, take heart: --To the Guards beloa We'll bury him: and then, what's brave, what's noble. Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take us. Come, away: This case of that huge spirit now is cold. Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend But resolution, and the briefest...