The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, 8 leidimas

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G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806
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243 psl. - Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a grammar school : and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear.
231 psl. - Cade. Be brave, then ; for your captain is brave, and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny: the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops ; and I will make it felony to drink small beer: all the • realm shall be in common ; and in Cheapside • shall my palfry go to grass : and when I am king, as king I will be, — All.
415 psl. - And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me!
334 psl. - I tend my flock; 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...
12 psl. - Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! Comets, importing change of times and states, Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, And with them scourge the bad revolting stars That have consented unto Henry's death!
355 psl. - Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. "Why, I can smile, and murder while I smile; And cry, content, to that which grieves my heart ; And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
50 psl. - Will I upon thy party wear this rose. And here I prophesy, — this brawl to-day , Grown to this faction in the Temple garden, Shall send , between the red rose and the white , A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
214 psl. - What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

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