The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Tom 9G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Strona 29
... fight on Edward's party , for the crown ; And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would to God , my heart were flint , like Edward's , Or Edward's soft and pitiful , like mine ; I am too childish - foolish for this world . Q ...
... fight on Edward's party , for the crown ; And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would to God , my heart were flint , like Edward's , Or Edward's soft and pitiful , like mine ; I am too childish - foolish for this world . Q ...
Strona 46
... fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster . 1 Murd . And , like a traitor to the name of God , Didst break that vow ; and , with thy treacherous blade , Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son . 2 Murd . Whom thou wast sworn to ...
... fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster . 1 Murd . And , like a traitor to the name of God , Didst break that vow ; and , with thy treacherous blade , Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son . 2 Murd . Whom thou wast sworn to ...
Strona 54
... fight for me ? Who told me , in the field at Tewksbury , When Oxford had me down , he rescu'd me , And said , Dear brother , lice , and be a king ? Who told me , when we both lay in the field , Frozen almost to death , how he did lap me ...
... fight for me ? Who told me , in the field at Tewksbury , When Oxford had me down , he rescu'd me , And said , Dear brother , lice , and be a king ? Who told me , when we both lay in the field , Frozen almost to death , how he did lap me ...
Strona 123
... fight ; And there the little souls of Edward's children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies , And promise them success and victory . Bloody thou art , bloody will be thy end ; Shame serves thy life , and doth thy death attend . [ Exit ...
... fight ; And there the little souls of Edward's children Whisper the spirits of thine enemies , And promise them success and victory . Bloody thou art , bloody will be thy end ; Shame serves thy life , and doth thy death attend . [ Exit ...
Strona 137
... fight with foreign enemies , Yet to beat down these rebels here at home . Enter CATESBY . Cate . My liege , the duke of Buckingham is taken , That is the best news ; That the earl of Richmond Is with a mighty power landed at Milford ...
... fight with foreign enemies , Yet to beat down these rebels here at home . Enter CATESBY . Cate . My liege , the duke of Buckingham is taken , That is the best news ; That the earl of Richmond Is with a mighty power landed at Milford ...
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Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience Cres Cressida Crom curse death Diomed Dorset doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour i'the JOHNSON Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Neoptolemus Nest Nestor noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pray Priam prince queen Rich Richm Richmond royal SCENE Shakspeare sir Thomas Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan STEEVENS sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy trumpets Ulyss uncle unto Wolsey York
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 259 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him . The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Strona 349 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Strona 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Strona 271 - An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
Strona 38 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Strona 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Strona 173 - I COME no more to make you laugh ; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Strona 427 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Strona 348 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!
Strona 262 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee...