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Achilles Agam Ajax Anne arms bear better blood bring brother Buck Buckingham cardinal cause Clar Clarence comes Cres crown dead death deed doth Duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight follow friends Gent gentle give grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Hector Henry highness hold honour hope hour I'll keep king lady leave live look lord Lucius madam master mean mind mother Murd never night noble once peace poor pray Prince queen rest Rich Richard Rome SCENE sons soul speak stand stay sweet sword tears tell thank thee Ther thing thou thought tongue Troilus Troy true Ulyss unto Warwick York young
Strona 264 - This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me, and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye : I feel my heart new open'd. O ! how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes
Strona 267 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Strona 92 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Strona 314 - Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad.
Strona 246 - Orpheus with his lute made trees , And the mountain-tops that freeze,, Bow themselves, when he did sing: To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring.
Strona 372 - 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 264 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth ; my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Strona 33 - O God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the times: So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many...
Strona 315 - 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 314 - 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...