King Lear: A Tragedy in Five Acts, 4 tomasLongman, Hurst, Rees, Orme and Brown, 1808 - 78 psl. |
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9 psl.
... Cawdor , ' gan a dismal conflict : Till that Bellona's bridegroom , lapp'd in proof , Confronted him with self - comparisons , Point against point rebellious , arm ' gainst arm , Curbing his lavish spirit : And , to conclude , The ...
... Cawdor , ' gan a dismal conflict : Till that Bellona's bridegroom , lapp'd in proof , Confronted him with self - comparisons , Point against point rebellious , arm ' gainst arm , Curbing his lavish spirit : And , to conclude , The ...
10 psl.
A Tragedy in Five Acts William Shakespeare. King . No more that thane of Cawdor shall de- ceive Our bosom interest : Go , pronounce his present death , And with his former title greet Macbeth . Macd . I'll see it done . [ Exeunt Macduff ...
A Tragedy in Five Acts William Shakespeare. King . No more that thane of Cawdor shall de- ceive Our bosom interest : Go , pronounce his present death , And with his former title greet Macbeth . Macd . I'll see it done . [ Exeunt Macduff ...
12 psl.
... Cawdor ? the thane of Cawdor lives , A prosperous gentleman ; and , to be king , Stands not within the prospect of belief , No more than to be Cawdor . Say , from whence You owe this strange intelligence ? or why Upon this blasted heath ...
... Cawdor ? the thane of Cawdor lives , A prosperous gentleman ; and , to be king , Stands not within the prospect of belief , No more than to be Cawdor . Say , from whence You owe this strange intelligence ? or why Upon this blasted heath ...
13 psl.
... Cawdor too ; went it not so ? Ban . To the self - same tune , and words . Who's here ? Enter Macduff and Lenox . Macd . The king hath happily rcceiv'd , Macbeth , The news of thy success : and , when he reads Thy personal venture in ...
... Cawdor too ; went it not so ? Ban . To the self - same tune , and words . Who's here ? Enter Macduff and Lenox . Macd . The king hath happily rcceiv'd , Macbeth , The news of thy success : and , when he reads Thy personal venture in ...
14 psl.
... Cawdor : The greatest is behind . Thanks for your pains. Do you not hope your children shall be kings , When those , that gave the thane of Cawdor to me , Promised no less to them ? Ban . That , trusted home , Might yet enkindle you ...
... Cawdor : The greatest is behind . Thanks for your pains. Do you not hope your children shall be kings , When those , that gave the thane of Cawdor to me , Promised no less to them ? Ban . That , trusted home , Might yet enkindle you ...
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art thou ARVIRAGUS ATTENDANTS Banquo better blood Brutus Cæsar Caius call'd Casca Cassius Cawdor Char Charmian Cleo Cleopatra Cloten Cord Cordelia CYMBELINE daughter dead dear death Diom dost doth Edgar Edmund Enob ENOBARBUS Enter ANTONY Eros Exeunt Exit eyes farewell father fear FLEANCE fortunes friends Fulvia give Glost Gloster gods GONERIL Guard GUIDERIUS hand hath hear heart Heaven honour i'the Iach Imog Imogen is't Julius Cæsar Kent KING LEAR Lady look lord LUCIUS Macb Macbeth Macd MACDUFF madam Mark Antony master night noble o'the Octavius on't pardon peace Pisanio Pleb poor Post Posthumus pr'ythee pray queen Regan Roman Rome royal SCENE SEYTON sleep soldier speak sword tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast Thunder Thyr Trebonius twas villain What's Witch word worthy
Populiarios ištraukos
5 psl. - Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world, Like a Colossus ; and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
18 psl. - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
3 psl. - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that The winds were love-sick with them : the oars were silver; Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water, which they beat, to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
36 psl. - Romans, countrymen, and lovers! hear me for my cause ; and be silent that you may hear : believe me for mine honour; and have respect to mine honour, that you may believe: censure me in your wisdom; and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his.
77 psl. - Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come: Now to that name my courage prove my title ! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life.
39 psl. - I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er : Strange things I have in head, that will to hand ; Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.
59 psl. - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
38 psl. - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears ; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them ; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious : If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest, For Brutus is an honourable man ; So are they all, all honourable men, Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
39 psl. - But yesterday, the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
35 psl. - To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue, A curse shall light upon the limbs of men ; Domestic fury and fierce civil strife Shall cumber all the parts of Italy...