The works of Shakspere, revised from the best authorities: with a memoir and essay on his genius by Barry Cornwall: also annotations and remarks by many writers, illustr. with engr. from designs by K. Meadows, Volum 3
Què opinen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The works of Shakspere, revised from the best authorities: with a ..., Volum 2
Visualització completa - 1843
arms Attendants bear better blood breath bring brother cause comes crown dead death dost doth Duke Earl Edward England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair faith fall father fear fight follow force France French friends gentle give grace grief hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Henry hold honour hope hour John keep kill King lady land leave live look lord majesty master means mind never night noble once peace play poor pray present prince Queen rest Rich Richard Scene shame shew soldiers sorrow soul speak stand stay sweet sword tears tell thee thine thing thou thou art thought thousand tongue true turn unto Warwick wrong York young
Pàgina 6 - Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it; for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. O if (I say) you look upon this verse, When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse ; But let your love even with my life decay: Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after...
Pàgina 9 - I have ventured, 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 stre-am, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ! I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Pàgina 40 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Pàgina 128 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? No. Why? Detraction will not suffer it : — therefore I'll none of it : Honour is a mere scutcheon/ and so ends my catechism.
Pàgina 7 - The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts : Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds...
Pàgina 8 - Ah, do not, when my heart hath 'scaped this sorrow. Come in the rearward of a conquer'd woe ; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow, To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come : so shall I taste At first the very worst of fortune's might ; And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee will not seem so.
Pàgina 7 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,...