King Henry VI. Part 3 ; King Richard III ; King Henry VIII ; Troilus and Cressida ; Coriolanus ; Titus Andronicus

Priekinis viršelis
Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate, next Grays-Inn Lane, 1709

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1754 psl. - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
1545 psl. - So many hours must 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 yean; So many years...
1821 psl. - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
1763 psl. - Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely...
1838 psl. - Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
1757 psl. - I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
1839 psl. - That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing. O ! let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was ; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded...
1757 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.
1854 psl. - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.

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