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Act iii appeared APPENDIX bequeath body bond Cæsar called cautele chattels child commit common law condition contained custom death deed delivered disposing divers dooth doth earth England evidence executor father former give greater ground grow hand hath heaven heir heir-looms Henry Herne the hunter honour Illustrated inventoried Item kind label lands LANGUAGE Lawyer least leave legacie libertie live London Lord Campbell maie manner matter meaning memory ment mention minde observed Old Authors opinion passage personal property praise published reason reference Richard ring Romeo Rushton says seal sense Shakespeare Shakespeare a Lawyer sick signification single skill sometimes soul speak Swinburn taken tenements testament TESTAMENTARY testator thee thing thou Treatise true tuition tutor unto whereby whereof wife witnesses word devise writing York
Pagina 26 - Methought I heard a voice cry "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep," the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast, — Lady M.
Pagina 10 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Pagina 43 - If there's a hole in a' your coats, I rede you tent it : A chield's amang you taking notes, And, faith, he'll prent it. If in your bounds ye chance to light Upon a fine, fat, fodgel wight, O...
Pagina 3 - Caesar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men ; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad : 'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ; For if you should, O, what would come of it ! 4 Cit.
Pagina 3 - Have patience, gentle friends; I must not read it : It is not meet you know how Caesar lov'd you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men, And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad. Tis good you know not that you are his heirs ; For if you should, O ! what would come of it ? 4 Cit.