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" That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember ? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on : and yet, within a month — Let me not think on't — Frailty,... "
The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ... - Seite 138
von William Shakespeare - 1805
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The Plays of William Shakespeare ...

William Shakespeare - 1800
...her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Muft I remember? why, Ihe would hang on him, As if increafe of appetite had grown By what it fed on: And yet,...Frailty, thy name is woman! A. little month ; 'or ere thofe Ihoes Were old, With which fhe follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears ; — why...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text ..., Band 10

William Shakespeare - 1803
...a king; that was, to this, Hyperion4 to a satyr : so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem5 the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...me not think on't; — Frailty, thy name is woman ! — 8 Draught. 9 Report. ' Dissolve. * Law. 3 Entirely, + Apollo. s Suffer. A little month ; or ere...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare, Band 8

William Shakespeare - 1804
...excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears; — why she, even she, — O heaven ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,...
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The Tatler, Band 2

1804
...a king ! that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not let e'en the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...— Frailty, thy name is woman! A little month ! or e'er those shoes were old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears, why...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text ..., Band 10

William Shakespeare - 1805
...a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr:9 so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem1 the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, 5 No jocund health,'] The King's intemperance is very strongly impressed ; every thing that happens...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Ausgabe 14

William Shakespeare - 1806
...excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr : so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears; — why she, even she, — O heaven ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,...
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The Plays of Shakspeare: Printed from the Text of Samuel Johnson ..., Band 6

William Shakespeare - 1807
...a king ; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr : so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears; — why she, even she, — O heaven ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,...
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The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: With Explanatory Notes ..., Band 2

William Shakespeare, Samuel Ayscough - 1807
...that was to this, [two : Hyperion to a satyr ' : so loving to my mother, That he might not let e'en the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown 10 By what it fed on: And yet, within a month, — Let me not think on Ч :— — Frailty, thy name...
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The British Theatre, Or, A Collection of Plays, which are Acted at the ...

Mrs. Inchbald - 1808
...a king ; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr : so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of Heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears, — She married with my uncle, My father's brother : — but no more like my...
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The British Essayists;: Tatler

Alexander Chalmers - 1808
...King ! that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr : so loving to my mother, That he might not let e'en the winds of Heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven...those shoes were old, With which she follow'd my poor lather's body, Like Niobe, all tears! —why she, even she, O Heaven ! a brute, that wants discourse...
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