The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, Volum 4Jacob Tonson, 1709 |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 100.
Pàgina 1540
... Hath made us by - words to our Enemies . York . Then leave me not , my Lords , be resolute , I mean to take poffeffion of my Right . War . Neither the King , nor he that loves him best , The proudest He that holds up Lancaster . Dares ...
... Hath made us by - words to our Enemies . York . Then leave me not , my Lords , be resolute , I mean to take poffeffion of my Right . War . Neither the King , nor he that loves him best , The proudest He that holds up Lancaster . Dares ...
Pàgina 1549
... hath stopt the passage Where thy Words should enter , Rut . Then let my Father's Blood open it again , He is a Man , and , Clifford , cope with him . [ Exit . Clif . Had I thy Brethren here , their Lives and thine Were not revenge ...
... hath stopt the passage Where thy Words should enter , Rut . Then let my Father's Blood open it again , He is a Man , and , Clifford , cope with him . [ Exit . Clif . Had I thy Brethren here , their Lives and thine Were not revenge ...
Pàgina 1550
... hath got the Field : My Uncles both are flain in rescuing me , And all my Followers , to the eager Foe Turn back , and fly , like Ships before the Wind , Or Lambs pursu'd by hunger - starved Wolves . My Sons , God knows what hath ...
... hath got the Field : My Uncles both are flain in rescuing me , And all my Followers , to the eager Foe Turn back , and fly , like Ships before the Wind , Or Lambs pursu'd by hunger - starved Wolves . My Sons , God knows what hath ...
Pàgina 1551
... hath tumbled from his Car , And made an Evening at the Noon - tide Prick . York . My Ashes , as the Phoenix , may bring forth A Bird , that will revenge upon you all : And in that hope I throw mine Eyes to Heav'n , Scorning whate'er you ...
... hath tumbled from his Car , And made an Evening at the Noon - tide Prick . York . My Ashes , as the Phoenix , may bring forth A Bird , that will revenge upon you all : And in that hope I throw mine Eyes to Heav'n , Scorning whate'er you ...
Pàgina 1561
... hath Clifford plaid the Orator , Inferring Arguments of mighty Force : But , Clifford , tell me , didst thou never hear , That things ill got , had ever bad Success . And happy always was it for that Son , Whose Father for his hoording ...
... hath Clifford plaid the Orator , Inferring Arguments of mighty Force : But , Clifford , tell me , didst thou never hear , That things ill got , had ever bad Success . And happy always was it for that Son , Whose Father for his hoording ...
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Eight Volumes. Adorn'd with Cutts William Shakespeare,Nicholas Rowe Visualització completa - 1714 |
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, Volum 4 William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1709 |
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Eight Volumes. Adorn'd ..., Volum 4 William Shakespeare Visualització completa - 1714 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
Achilles Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus anſwer beſt Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Buſineſs Cauſe Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Curſe Death defire Diomede doſt doth Duke Duke of York e'er Edward elſe Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes falſe Farewel Father fear felf firſt flain Friends fuch give Goths Grace Hand Hastings hath hear Heart Heav'n Hector Henry Honour Horſe Houſe i'th King Lady laſt Lavinia leſs Lord Lord Chamberlain loſe Love Lucius Madam Martius Maſter morrow moſt muſt Noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Peace pleaſe pleaſure pray preſent Prince Queen reſt Rich Rome ſay ſee ſelf ſet ſhall ſhe ſhew ſhould ſome Soul ſpeak ſtand ſtay ſtill ſtrong ſuch ſwear ſweet Sword Tears tell thee Ther theſe thine thoſe thou art Titus Troi Troilus unto uſe Warwick whoſe York
Passatges populars
Pàgina 1630 - I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
Pàgina 1777 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou...
Pàgina 1824 - 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 fixure ! O ! when degree is shak'd, Which is the ladder to all high designs, The enterprise is sick.
Pàgina 1784 - After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Pàgina 1777 - Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Pàgina 1783 - From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer...
Pàgina 1567 - So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will...
Pàgina 1998 - Volsces ; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. — Boy ! False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dovecote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it. — Boy ! Auf.
Pàgina 1749 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Pàgina 1620 - And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace...