The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Volum 9G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Pàgina 9
... wife , Clarence , ' tis she , That tempers him to this extremity . Was it not she , and that good man of worship , Antony Woodeville , her brother there , That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower From whence this present day he is ...
... wife , Clarence , ' tis she , That tempers him to this extremity . Was it not she , and that good man of worship , Antony Woodeville , her brother there , That made him send lord Hastings to the Tower From whence this present day he is ...
Pàgina 10
... wife hath a pretty foot , A cherry lip , A bonny eye , a passing pleasing tongue ; And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks : How say you , sir ? can you deny all this ? Brak . With this , my lord , myself have nought to do . Glo ...
... wife hath a pretty foot , A cherry lip , A bonny eye , a passing pleasing tongue ; And the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks : How say you , sir ? can you deny all this ? Brak . With this , my lord , myself have nought to do . Glo ...
Pàgina 14
... Wife to thy Edward , to thy slaughter'd son , Stabb'd by the self - same hand that made these wounds ! Lo , in these windows , that let forth thy life , I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : — O , cursed be the hand , that made ...
... Wife to thy Edward , to thy slaughter'd son , Stabb'd by the self - same hand that made these wounds ! Lo , in these windows , that let forth thy life , I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : — O , cursed be the hand , that made ...
Pàgina 25
... wife , And loves not me , be you , good lord , assur'd , I hate not you for her proud arrogance . Stan . I do beseech you , either not believe The envious slanders of her false accusers ; Or , if she be accus'd on true report , Bear ...
... wife , And loves not me , be you , good lord , assur'd , I hate not you for her proud arrogance . Stan . I do beseech you , either not believe The envious slanders of her false accusers ; Or , if she be accus'd on true report , Bear ...
Pàgina 32
... wife , nor England's queen ! - Rivers , and Dorset , -you were standers by , - And so wast thou , lord Hastings , -when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers ; God , I pray him , That none of you may live your natural age , But by some ...
... wife , nor England's queen ! - Rivers , and Dorset , -you were standers by , - And so wast thou , lord Hastings , -when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers ; God , I pray him , That none of you may live your natural age , But by some ...
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The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Edició 9 William Shakespeare Visualització de fragments - 1806 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience Cres Cressida Crom curse death Diomed Dorset doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour i'the JOHNSON Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Neoptolemus Nest Nestor noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pray Priam prince queen Rich Richm Richmond royal SCENE Shakspeare sir Thomas Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan STEEVENS sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy trumpets Ulyss uncle unto Wolsey York
Passatges populars
Pàgina 259 - 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 349 - 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 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Pàgina 271 - 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 38 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Pàgina 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Pàgina 173 - I COME no more to make you laugh ; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Pàgina 427 - 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.
Pàgina 348 - 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 262 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee...