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ALICE aloud ANGEL appears BRIAN CADE CAPTAIN CARL chair CHARLES CLARIS comes CORNE Count dear don't door Dora dress Duke EDMOND EDWIN Enter Exit eyes face falls father feel follow FUSSLE GERALD girl give goes GRAND GRICE hand happy head hear heard heart heaven HELEN HERN honour hope I'll it's JACK keep king lady laugh Lazon leave letter light live look lord Lucy madam married Mary master mean mind Miss MONTE Music NELLY never once opens Paris Patty PENNY points poor present PROJECT QUILP RICHARD rising round SCENE sits speak STAN stand sure Susan TATTLE tell thank thee there's thing thou thought turn uncle voice wife window young ZANTH
Strona 36 - All murdered : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable...
Strona 56 - God save him; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, — His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience ; — That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Strona 35 - No matter where; of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth...
Strona 9 - Richard ; no man cried, God save him; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, — His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience ; — That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Strona 20 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast?
Strona 36 - For Heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings ; — How some have been deposed, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed ; Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed; All murdered.
Strona 10 - Ay, truly ; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness : this was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof.
Strona 17 - And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol, or a harp ; Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Strona 36 - Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood With solemn reverence : throw away respect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me I am a king?
Strona 41 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood, My sceptre for a palmer's walking-staff, My subjects for a pair of carved saints, And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave; Or I'll be buried in the king's highway, Some way of common trade, where subjects...