Specimens of English Dramatic Poets: Who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare. With Notes, Tom 1E. Moxon, 1844 |
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Strona xiii
... mother in his bed . GORBODUC , AROSTUS , EUBULUS , and others . Gorb . What cruel destiny , What froward fate hath sorted us this chance ? That even in those where we should comfort find , Where our delight now in our aged days Should ...
... mother in his bed . GORBODUC , AROSTUS , EUBULUS , and others . Gorb . What cruel destiny , What froward fate hath sorted us this chance ? That even in those where we should comfort find , Where our delight now in our aged days Should ...
Strona xiii
... mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But out ( alas ) these eyes beheld the same , They saw the dreary sight , and are become Most ruthful records of the bloody fact . Porrex , alas , is by his mother slain , And ...
... mother's breast , With her own hand to slay her only son ? But out ( alas ) these eyes beheld the same , They saw the dreary sight , and are become Most ruthful records of the bloody fact . Porrex , alas , is by his mother slain , And ...
Strona xiii
... mother , and to cry to her for aid , Whose direful hand gave him the mortal wound , Pitying alas ( for nought else could we do ) His rueful end , ran to the woful bed , Despoiled streight his breast , and all we might Wiped in vain with ...
... mother , and to cry to her for aid , Whose direful hand gave him the mortal wound , Pitying alas ( for nought else could we do ) His rueful end , ran to the woful bed , Despoiled streight his breast , and all we might Wiped in vain with ...
Strona xiii
... mother , thou to murder thus thy child ! Even Jove with justice must with light'ning flames From heaven send down some strange revenge on thee . Ah noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed ...
... mother , thou to murder thus thy child ! Even Jove with justice must with light'ning flames From heaven send down some strange revenge on thee . Ah noble prince , how oft have I beheld Thee mounted on thy fierce and trampling steed ...
Strona 5
... mother kill her only son . Blood asketh blood , and death must death requit ; Jove by his just and everlasting doom Justly hath ever so requited it . This times before record and times to come Shall find it true , and so doth present ...
... mother kill her only son . Blood asketh blood , and death must death requit ; Jove by his just and everlasting doom Justly hath ever so requited it . This times before record and times to come Shall find it true , and so doth present ...
Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
Specimens of English Dramatic Poets Who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare Charles Lamb Podgląd niedostępny - 2016 |
Specimens of English Dramatic Poets: Who Lived about the Time of Shakespeare ... Charles Lamb Podgląd niedostępny - 1907 |
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Alaham Appius beauty blessing blood breath brother Cæsar Calica Camena Carracus cheek CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE Corb Corv dead dear death devil dost doth Duch DUCHESS OF MALFY earth eyes fair faith father Faustus fear fire give GORBODUC grief hand hate hath hear heart heaven Hecate hell HONEST WHORE honor hope husband Jacin JOHN FORD JOHN MARSTON JOHN WEBSTER King kiss kneel Lady live look Lord Madam methinks Mont Moth mother murder Mustapha ne'er never night noble Ovid pardon passion pity pleasure poor pray prince prithee revenge rich scorn Shakspeare shame shew sister Solym sorrow soul speak spirit sweet Tamburlaine tears tell thee there's thine thing THOMAS HEYWOOD THOMAS MIDDLETON thou art thoughts thyself tongue TRAGEDY true twas unto virtue weep what's Wife WILLIAM ROWLEY Witch woman
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 192 - Of what is't fools make such vain keeping? Sin their conception, their birth weeping, Their life a general mist of error, Their death a hideous storm of terror. Strew your hair with powders sweet, Don clean linen, bathe your feet, And (the foul fiend more to check) A crucifix let bless your neck : 'Tis now full tide 'tween night and day ; End your groan, and come away.
Strona 208 - Call for the robin redbreast and the wren, Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm, And (when gay tombs are robbed) sustain no harm : But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again.
Strona 25 - I see my tragedy written in thy brows. Yet stay awhile ; forbear thy bloody hand, And let me see the stroke before it comes, That even then when I shall lose my life, My mind may be more steadfast on my God.
Strona 28 - Rather had I, a Jew, be hated thus Than pitied in a Christian poverty ; For I can see no fruits in all their faith, But malice, falsehood, and excessive pride, Which, methinks, fits not their profession.
Strona 32 - I'll have them read me strange philosophy And tell the secrets of all foreign kings; I'll have them wall all Germany with brass, And make swift Rhine circle fair Wittenberg; I'll have them fill the public schools with silk...
Strona 35 - Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente, currite noctis equi!
Strona 193 - So I were out of your whispering. Tell my brothers That I perceive death, now I am well awake, Best gift is they can give or I can take. I would fain put off my last woman's fault, I'd not be tedious to you. . . . Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strength Must pull down Heaven upon me: — Yet stay; Heaven-gates are not so highly arched As princes' palaces; they that enter there Must go upon their knees.
Strona 30 - He surfeits on the cursed necromancy. Nothing so sweet as magic is to him, Which he prefers before his chiefest bliss, And this the man that in his study sits.
Strona 26 - O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart, Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul ! Know that I am a king : O, at that name I feel a hell of grief.
Strona 20 - Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me; But this I scorn, that one so basely born Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert, And riot it with the treasure of the realm. While soldiers mutiny for want of pay, He wears a lord's revenue on his back, And Midas-like, he jets...