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King Richard the Third. King Henry the Eighth. Troilus and Cressida
William Shakespeare,Thomas Bowdler
Visualitzaciˇ completa - 1820
Achilles Ăneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Cres Cressida curse daughter death Diomed doth Duch duke earl Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Hastings hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen Holinshed honour Kath King Henry King Henry VI King Richard King Richard III king's kiss lady live lord Lord Chamberlain madam means Menelaus Murd Nestor never night noble Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace play pray Priam prince queen Rape of Lucrece Rich Richmond SCENE Shakspeare Shakspeare's Sir Thomas sorrow soul speak Stan Stanley Steevens sweet sword tell tent thee Ther Thersites thou thought Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Wolsey word
PÓgina 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.
PÓgina 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 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.
PÓgina 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.
PÓgina 338 - 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.
PÓgina 303 - And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her; In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. God shall be truly known; and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
PÓgina 260 - 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.
PÓgina 152 - Give me another horse! bind up my wounds! Have mercy, Jesu! Soft! I did but dream. O! coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me. The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What! do I fear myself? there's none else by Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
PÓgina 398 - 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...
PÓgina 7 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
PÓgina 8 - But I, that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty, To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...