The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare: Richard III. Henry VIII. Troilus and Cressida

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C. Whittingham, 1826

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Strona 257 - 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 153 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder, in the dir'st degree ; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty ! guilty ! I shall despair.
Strona 336 - Amidst the other : whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander.
Strona 257 - 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 honors 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 40 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Strona 396 - The present eye praises the present object : Then marvel not, thou great and complete man, That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax ; Since things in motion sooner catch the eye, Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee, And still it might, and yet it may again, If thou would'st not entomb thyself alive, And case thy reputation in thy tent...
Strona 251 - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting: I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Strona 259 - Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans
Strona 261 - tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to Heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell! Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king, He would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Strona 152 - Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no, alas! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself. I am a villain. Yet I lie; I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.

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