Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
The Plays of William Shakespeare ... With the Corrections and ..., 8 tomas
Visos knygos peržiūra - 1809
The Plays of William Shakespeare With the Corrections and ..., 8 tomas
Visos knygos peržiūra - 1806
againſt Anne Apem Athens attend bear better blood brother Buck Buckingham cardinal Cham Clarence comes dead death doth doubt Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall fame father fear fhall follow fome fool fortune foul friends fuch Gent gentle give gods gold grace hand hate hath head hear heart heaven honour hope hour I'll Kath keep king king's lady leave live look lord madam mean mind moſt mother Murd muſt myſelf nature never noble once Pain peace pleaſe poor pray preſent prince queen Rich Richard Richmond royal SCENE Serv ſhall ſhould ſpeak tell thank thee theſe thing thoſe thou thou art thought Timon Tower true unto wife York
73 psl. - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell...
14 psl. - Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? 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...
74 psl. - tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
29 psl. - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, Such terrible impression made my dream.
55 psl. - Roots, you clear heavens! Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha! you gods, why this? What this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout...
38 psl. - 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.
71 psl. - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
28 psl. - Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, ' What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...