The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: Winter's tale. Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John. Richard II. Henry IV, pt. 1Hilliard, Gray,, 1839 |
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Сторінка 7
... shame us , we will be justified in our loves ; for , indeed , — Cam . Beseech you , - Arch . Verily , I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge ; we cannot with such magnificence - in so rare - I know not what to say.- -We will give you ...
... shame us , we will be justified in our loves ; for , indeed , — Cam . Beseech you , - Arch . Verily , I speak it in the freedom of my knowledge ; we cannot with such magnificence - in so rare - I know not what to say.- -We will give you ...
Сторінка 28
... shame to know herself , 2 But with her most vile principal , that she's A bed - swerver , even as bad as those That vulgars give bold'st titles ; ay , and privy To this their late escape . Her . No , by my life , Privy to none of this ...
... shame to know herself , 2 But with her most vile principal , that she's A bed - swerver , even as bad as those That vulgars give bold'st titles ; ay , and privy To this their late escape . Her . No , by my life , Privy to none of this ...
Сторінка 35
... shame on't in himself ; Threw off his spirit , his appetite , his sleep , And downright languished . - Leave me solely ; 2 — go , See how he fares . [ Exit Attend . ] - Fie , fie ! no thought of him ; — The very thought of my revenges ...
... shame on't in himself ; Threw off his spirit , his appetite , his sleep , And downright languished . - Leave me solely ; 2 — go , See how he fares . [ Exit Attend . ] - Fie , fie ! no thought of him ; — The very thought of my revenges ...
Сторінка 45
... shame , ( Those of your fact are so , ) so past all truth ; 2 Which to deny , concerns more than avails ; for as Thy brat hath been cast out , like to itself , No father owning it , ( which is , indeed , More criminal in thee , than it ...
... shame , ( Those of your fact are so , ) so past all truth ; 2 Which to deny , concerns more than avails ; for as Thy brat hath been cast out , like to itself , No father owning it , ( which is , indeed , More criminal in thee , than it ...
Сторінка 50
... shame perpetual . Once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie ; and tears , shed there , Shall be my recreation . So long as Nature will bear up with this exercise , So long I daily vow to use it . And lead me to these sorrows ...
... shame perpetual . Once a day I'll visit The chapel where they lie ; and tears , shed there , Shall be my recreation . So long as Nature will bear up with this exercise , So long I daily vow to use it . And lead me to these sorrows ...
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Antipholus arms art thou Aumerle Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Camillo castle cousin crown death deed dost doth Dromio duke duke of Hereford earl England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fleance folio friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harry Percy hath hear heart Heaven Holinshed honor Hubert John of Gaunt King John King Richard Lady Leon liege live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty murder never noble Northumberland old copy reads peace Percy play Poins pr'ythee pray prince quarto queen Rich Rosse SCENE Shakspeare shalt shame Shep soul speak stand Steevens sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Witch word York
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Сторінка 264 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Сторінка 382 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry...
Сторінка 408 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Сторінка 206 - Had I but died an hour before this chance, I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant There's nothing serious in mortality: All is but toys: renown and grace is dead ; The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of.
Сторінка 195 - Like the poor cat i' the adage? MACB. Prithee, peace. I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. LADY M. What beast was't, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both. They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender...
Сторінка 198 - 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 marshal'st me the way that I was going; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still.
Сторінка 194 - Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.
Сторінка 253 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff", Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Сторінка 198 - 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...
Сторінка 552 - Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound ; But now, two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough : — this earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.