The Family Shakspeare ... in which Nothing is Added to the Original Text: But Those Words and Expressions are Omitted which Cannot with Propriety be Read Aloud in a Family ...Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, 1825 |
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Resultats 1 - 5 de 94.
Pàgina 9
... heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the death of thee , Than I can wish to adders , spiders , toads , Or any ...
... heart , that had the heart to do it ! Cursed the blood , that let this blood from hence ! More direful hap betide that hated wretch , That makes us wretched by the death of thee , Than I can wish to adders , spiders , toads , Or any ...
Pàgina 11
... heart can think thee , thou canst make No excuse current , but to hang thyself . Glo . By such despair , I should accuse myself . Anne . And , by despairing , shalt thou stand ex- cus'd ; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself , That ...
... heart can think thee , thou canst make No excuse current , but to hang thyself . Glo . By such despair , I should accuse myself . Anne . And , by despairing , shalt thou stand ex- cus'd ; For doing worthy vengeance on thyself , That ...
Pàgina 14
... heart sues , and prompts my tongue to [ She looks scornfully at him . Teach not thy lip such scorn ; for it was made For kissing , lady , not for such contempt . If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive , Lo ! here I lend thee this sharp ...
... heart sues , and prompts my tongue to [ She looks scornfully at him . Teach not thy lip such scorn ; for it was made For kissing , lady , not for such contempt . If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive , Lo ! here I lend thee this sharp ...
Pàgina 15
... heart . Glo . ' Tis figur'd in my tongue . Anne . I fear me , both are false . Glo . Then man was never true . Anne . Well , well , put up your sword . Glo . Say then , my peace is made . Anne . That shall you know hereafter . Glo . But ...
... heart . Glo . ' Tis figur'd in my tongue . Anne . I fear me , both are false . Glo . Then man was never true . Anne . Well , well , put up your sword . Glo . Say then , my peace is made . Anne . That shall you know hereafter . Glo . But ...
Pàgina 16
... heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth , tears in her eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With Heaven , her conscience , and these bars against me , And I no friends to back my suit withal , But the plain devil ...
... heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth , tears in her eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With Heaven , her conscience , and these bars against me , And I no friends to back my suit withal , But the plain devil ...
Frases i termes més freqüents
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor arms bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence cousin Cran Cres Cressid Crom curse death Deiphobus Diomed DIOMEDES Dorset doth Duch duke duke of Norfolk Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks hand Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen Helenus honour i'the Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Nest Nestor noble Norfolk Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace Pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Rich Richmond royal SCENE sir Thomas Lovell soul speak Stan Stanley sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow Tower Troilus Trojan Troy trumpet Ulyss uncle unto WOLSEY
Passatges populars
Pàgina 252 - ... 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.
Pàgina 252 - 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!
Pàgina 310 - I'll bring you to your father. [Diomed leads out Cressida. Nest. A woman of quick sense. Ulyss. Fye, fye 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.
Pàgina 196 - 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.
Pàgina 291 - I do not strain at the position, It is familiar ; but at the author's drift : Who, in his circumstance7, expressly proves — That no man is the lord of any thing, (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) Till he communicate his parts to others ; Nor doth he of himself know them for aught Till he behold them form'd in the applause Where they are extended ; which, like an arch, reverberates The voice again ; or like a gate of steel Fronting the sun, receives and renders back His figure and...
Pàgina 198 - O, my lord, Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all, that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord The king shall have my service ; but my prayers For ever, and for ever, shall be yours.
Pàgina 206 - O, father abbot, 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!
Pàgina 117 - 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!
Pàgina 197 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Pàgina 199 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels ; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty.