Array The griffin classics - William Shakespeare - Complete Collection

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This collection gathers together the works by William Shakespeare in a single, convenient, high quality, and extremely low priced Kindle volume! It comes with 150 original illustrations which are the engravings John Boydell commissioned for his Boydell Shakespeare Gallery
This book contains now several HTML tables of contents that will make reading a real pleasure!
The Comedies of William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night's Dream
All's Well That Ends Well
As You Like It
Love's Labour 's Lost
Measure for Measure
Much Ado About Nothing
The Comedy of Errors
The Merchant of Venice
The Merry Wives of Windsor
The Taming of the Shrew
The Two Gentlemen of Verona
Twelfth Night; or, What you will
The Romances of William Shakespeare
Cymbeline
Pericles, Prince of Tyre
The Tempest
The Winter's Tale
The Tragedies of William Shakespeare
King Lear
Romeo and Juliet
The History of Troilus and Cressida
The Life and Death of Julius Caesar
The Life of Timon of Athens
The Tragedy of Antony and Cleopatra
The Tragedy of Coriolanus
The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
The Tragedy of Macbeth
The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice
Titus Andronicus
The Histories of William Shakespeare
The Life and Death of King John
The Life and Death of King Richard the Second
The Tragedy of King Richard the Third
The first part of King Henry the Fourth
The second part of King Henry the Fourth
The Life of King Henry V
The first part of King Henry the Sixth
The second part of King Henry the Sixth
The third part of King Henry the Sixth
The Life of King Henry the Eighth
The Poetical Works of William Shakespeare
The Sonnets
Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music
A Lover's Complaint
The Rape of Lucrece
Venus and Adonis
The Phoenix and the Turtle
The Passionate Pilgrim

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Arm. In thy condign praise.

Moth. I will praise an eel with the same praise.

Arm. What? that an eel is ingenious?

Moth. That an eel is quick.

Arm. I do say thou art quick in answers; thou heat’st my blood.

Moth. I am answer’d, sir.

Arm. I love not to be cross’d.

Moth [Aside.] He speaks the mere contrary, crosses love not him.

Arm. I have promised to study three years with the Duke.

Moth. You may do it in an hour, sir.

Arm. Impossible.

Moth. How many is one thrice told?

Arm. I am ill at reck’ning, it fitteth the spirit of a tapster.

Moth. You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.

Arm. I confess both, they are both the varnish of a complete man.

Moth. Then I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.

Arm. It doth amount to one more than two.

Moth. Which the base vulgar do call three.

Arm. True.

Moth. Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here is three studied ere ye’ll thrice wink; and how easy it is to put ‘years’ to the word ‘three,’ and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will tell you.

Arm. A most fine figure!

Moth [Aside.] To prove you a cipher.

Arm. I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it is base for a soldier to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against the humor of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of it, I would take Desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier for a new- devis’d cur’sy. I think scorn to sigh; me-thinks I should outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy: what great men have been in love?

Moth. Hercules, master.

Arm. Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.

Moth. Sampson, master; he was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he carried the town gates on his back like a porter; and he was in love.

Arm. O well-knit Sampson, strong-jointed Sampson! I do excel thee in my rapier as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was Sampson’s love, my dear Moth?

Moth. A woman, master.

Arm. Of what complexion?

Moth. Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.

Arm. Tell me precisely of what complexion.

Moth. Of the sea-water green, sir.

Arm. Is that one of the four complexions?

Moth. As I have read, sir, and the best of them too.

Arm. Green indeed is the color of lovers; but to have a love of that color, methinks Sampson had small reason for it. He surely affected her for her wit.

Moth. It was so, sir, for she had a green wit.

Arm. My love is most immaculate white and red.

Moth. Most maculate thoughts, master, are mask’d under such colors.

Arm. Define, define, well-educated infant.

Moth. My father’s wit and my mother’s tongue assist me!

Arm. Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty and pathetical!

Moth.

If she be made of white and red,

Her faults will ne’er be known,

For blush in cheeks by faults are bred,

And fears by pale white shown:

Then if she fear, or be to blame,

By this you shall not know,

For still her cheeks possess the same

Which native she doth owe.

A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.

Arm. Is there not a ballet, boy, of the King and the Beggar?

Moth. The world was very guilty of such a ballet some three ages since, but I think now ’tis not to be found; or if it were, it would neither serve for the writing nor the tune.

Arm. I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my digression by some mighty president. Boy, I do love that country girl that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves well.

Moth [Aside.] To be whipt; and yet a better love than my master.

Arm. Sing, boy, my spirit grows heavy in love.

Moth. And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.

Arm. I say, sing.

Moth. Forbear till this company be past.

Enter Clown [Costard], Constable [Dull], and Wench [Jaquenetta].

Dull. Sir, the Duke’s pleasure is that you keep Costard safe, and you must suffer him to take no delight nor no penance, but ’a must fast three days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park; she is allow’d for the dey-woman. Fare you well.

Arm. I do betray myself with blushing. Maid.

Jaq. Man.

Arm. I will visit thee at the lodge.

Jaq. That’s hereby.

Arm. I know where it is situate.

Jaq. Lord, how wise you are!

Arm. I will tell thee wonders.

Jaq. With that face?

Arm. I love thee.

Jaq. So I heard you say.

Arm. And so farewell.

Jaq. Fair weather after you!

[Dull.] Come, Jaquenetta, away.

Exeunt [Dull and Jaquenetta].

Arm. Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offenses ere thou be pardoned.

Cost. Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full stomach.

Arm. Thou shalt be heavily punished.

Cost. I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly rewarded.

Arm. Take away this villain, shut him up.

Moth. Come, you transgressing slave, away.

Cost. Let me not be pent up, sir; I will fast, being loose.

Moth. No, sir, that were fast and loose; thou shalt to prison.

Cost. Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen, some shall see.

Moth. What shall some see?

Cost. Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for prisoners to be too silent in their words, and therefore I will say nothing. I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and therefore I can be quiet.

Exit [with Moth].

Arm. I do affect the very ground (which is base) where her shoe (which is baser) guided by her foot (which is basest) doth tread. I shall be forsworn (which is a great argument of falsehood) if I love. And how can that be true love, which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar; Love is a devil; there is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Sampson so tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Salomon so seduced, and he had a very good wit. Cupid’s butt-shaft is too hard for Hercules’ club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard’s rapier. The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the passado he respects not, the duello he regards not: his disgrace is to be called boy, but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valor, rust, rapier, be still, drum, for your manager is in love; yea, he loveth. Assist me, some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet. Devise, wit, write, pen, for I am for whole volumes in folio.

Exit.

[ACT II]

[Scene I]

Enter the Princess of France with three attending Ladies [Rosaline, Maria, Katherine] and three Lords, [one named Boyet].

Boyet.

Now, madam, summon up your dearest spirits;

Consider who the King your father sends,

To whom he sends, and what’s his embassy:

Yourself, held precious in the world’s esteem,

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