 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 652 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is5! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...the table on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own grinning6? quite chapfallen ? Now, get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 646 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is5! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...the table on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own grinning6? quite chapfallen ? Now, get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1843 - 364 psl.
...now how abhorred my imagination is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your...the table on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own jeering? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick,... | |
 | John Ward - 1843 - 758 psl.
...all now laid in the dust, and we may solemnly apostrophize the seventy in the language of Hamlet " Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs...merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar ?" The test of admission to the freedom of this convivial corporation was the drinking off a yard-length-glass... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1844 - 364 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor l she must come : make her laugh at that. — Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing. Ho. What's... | |
 | John Walker Ord - 1845 - 434 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table in a roar ? Not one now to mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get we to my lady's chamber,... | |
 | General reciter - 1845 - 348 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those iips, that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...your flashes of merriment ? that were wont to set a table on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own grinning ? quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my... | |
 | 1907 - 510 psl.
...rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. — Where be you gibes HOW? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,...the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own going? quite chopfallen?' Sterben ist Menschenlos ; doch war dieser Yorick so lebensfroh, so liebenswürdig,... | |
 | Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - 1847 - 252 psl.
...appears in the physiognomy (if it may be so called) of a skull, has been noticed by Shakspeare ; " where be your gibes now ? your gambols, your songs,...on a roar ? not one now to mock your own grinning f quite chopfallen! " And again; " within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king,... | |
 | William Shakespeare - 1848 - 536 psl.
...how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now ? your...on a roar ? Not one now, to mock your own grinning ? 1 quite chap-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, 9 and tell her, let her paint an inch thick,... | |
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Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? 
