affure againſt anſwer Baptifta Bian Bianca Bion Biondello Cath Catharina Catharine Clown Count daughter defire doft doth Duke Exeunt Exit faid father fervant ferve feven fhall fhew fhould fince fing firft firſt fome fool fpeak ftand ftill fuch fure fwear fweet gentleman give Gremio hath heart heav'n himſelf hither honour horſe Hortenfio houſe huſband Illyria itſelf Kate King knave Lady Lord Lucentio Madam mafter maid Malvolio marry miftrefs miſtreſs moft moſt muft muſt myſelf Narbon Orla Orlando Padua Petruchio pleaſe pleaſure pr'ythee pray preſent reafon Rofalind Roufillon ſay SCENE Enter ſhall ſhe Signior Sir Toby ſpeak tell thee thefe theſe thine thoſe thou art thouſand Tranio uſe wife worfe yourſelf youth
33. oldal - I must have liberty Withal, as large a charter as the wind, To blow on whom I please...
304. oldal - element,' but the word is over-worn. \Exit. Vio. This fellow is wise enough to play the fool ; And to do that well craves a kind of wit : He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.
32. oldal - Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot ; And thereby hangs a tale.
25. oldal - Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty: For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; I'll do the service of a younger man In all your business and necessities.
63. oldal - Hero had turned nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer night ; for good youth, he went but forth to wash him in the Hellespont, and being taken with the cramp, was drowned, and the foolish chroniclers of that age found it was — Hero of Sestos. But these are all lies ; men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.
21. oldal - The seasons' difference; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say,— This is no flattery: these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.