The plays and poems; of William Shakspeare, in ten volumes collated verbatim with the most authentick copies, and revised with the corrections and ... on the chronological order of his plays a

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1790 Excerpt: ...this supply the room; Measure for measure must be answered. Ediv. Bring forth that fatal scritch-owl to our house That nothing sung but death to us and ours Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. War. I think his understanding is bereft:--Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee f--» Dark cloudy death o'ershadcs his beams of life, And he nor fees, nor hears us what we fay. Rich. O, 'would he did! and so, perhaps, he doth; 'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, Because he would avoid such bitter taunts 'Which in the time of death he gave our father. Gee. If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. Rich. Clifford, ask mercy, and obtain no grace. EJuu. Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. War. Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. Geo. While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. Rich. Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. Ediu. Thou pitied'st Rutland, I will pity thee. Geo. Where's captain Margaret, to fence you now? War. They mock thee, Clifford! swear as thou wast Rich. What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath:--I know by that, he's dead; And, by my soul, If this right hand would buy two hoars' life, That I in all despight might rail at him, This hand should chop it off; and with the issuing blood Stifle the villain, whose unstanched thirst York and young Rutland could not satisfy. War. Ay, but he's dead: Oft' with the traitor's head, And rear it in the place your father's stands.----eager xuordi. Sour words; words of asperity. Johnson. So, ia lUmUt i " It is a.sipping and ao tager air." Stii»»ns. wont. hard, And And now to London with triumphant march, There to be crowned England's royal king. From whe...