Encylopédie plates, 1769 (vol 7 pl 15)

This side view of the common press is particularly useful for showing how the frisket folds down over the paper on the tympan, which then folds down over the imposed forme for printing. The pressman (standing facing us) would then roll the forme under the platen (barely visible hanging between the upright cheeks) and then reach across to pull the lever to lower the platen, creating the pressure to transfer the ink from the type to the paper.

Gianicolo, Type specimen, 1529 (recto)

This specimen sheet features only a font of italic type, but in a visually attractive demonstration of its possibilities.

Guyot, Type specimen, 1565

Specimen sheets are used by type-casters to show examples of the fonts they have for sale. This one shows work from François Guyot, a type-caster in Antwerp, and was used to sell his wares in England, as evidenced by the manuscript notes in English secretary hand. Careful sleuthing comparing these typefaces to those used in dated texts and to surviving records from the Plantin printing shop identified Guyot and the likely date of 1565. For more on those details, see this post from the Folger's

Meyerpeck, woodblock

One of the woodblocks carved by Wolfgang Meyerpeck to illustrate this 1562 Czech edition of Mattioli's herbal.

Moxon, Mechanick exercises, 1683 (pl. 1)

This illustration shows the standard layout of a pair of 17th-century type cases. Individual sorts (or categories of type) would go in the appropriately labeled boxes; although it's hard to tell from this picture, there are actually two cases shown, an upper case and a lower case.

Moxon, Mechanick exercises, 1683 (pl. 24)

This entire page is made by engraving lines into a copper plate. When the engraver noticed that a letter had accidentally been dropped from "Emptying" in the caption, he used a caret to insert the "p" in its proper place.

Nostradamus, An almanach, 1562 (fol. 1r)

This almanac gives evidence of two things we don't often get to see: it barely survived and it's covered with manuscript notes from other dates. Although it's hard to discern from just this one image, this is one side of a half of a sheet that was imposed as an octavo (the other images from this sheet can be seen here). The sheet itself was torn along what is here the left edge, probably after it was weakened by years of folding. But even then, the almanac is incomplete, ending in October since the second sheet is now missing.

Nostradamus, An almanach, 1562 (fol. 1v)

Although this almanac is for the year 1562, a user has added notes for a number of later years, including 1581 and 1589, as see here on the blank verso of the title page.

Nostradamus, An almanach, 1562 (fol. 2r)

Unlike later almanacs, this continues one month on after another, rather than giving each month its own page or opening. If you look at the top right page, you'll see the start of January, which continues onto the bottom right page.

Nostradamus, An almanach, 1562 (fol. 2v)

One of the benefits of looking at this unopened sheet is seeing how the use of red ink calls attention to specific dates and moon phases as well as serving to differentiate sections of the text. Our use now of the phrase "red-letter day" comes from the practice of using red ink to indicate festivals, a practice that originated in manuscripts.