The Works of William Shakspeare, Том 5C.S. Francis, 1852 |
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Сторінка 145
... friends , they are welcome . Be watched by persons employed to waylay and observe all who attempt to leave the ' kingdom . VOL . V. L Crom . Sir John Oldcastle , Lord Cobham , in SCENE III . ] 145 SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE .
... friends , they are welcome . Be watched by persons employed to waylay and observe all who attempt to leave the ' kingdom . VOL . V. L Crom . Sir John Oldcastle , Lord Cobham , in SCENE III . ] 145 SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE .
Сторінка 146
William Shakespeare. Crom . Sir John Oldcastle , Lord Cobham , in the king's name , I arrest you of high treason . Cob . Treason , Master Cromer ! Har . Treason , master sheriff ! what treason ? Cob . Harpool , I charge thee , stir not ...
William Shakespeare. Crom . Sir John Oldcastle , Lord Cobham , in the king's name , I arrest you of high treason . Cob . Treason , Master Cromer ! Har . Treason , master sheriff ! what treason ? Cob . Harpool , I charge thee , stir not ...
Сторінка 147
... Crom . But , by your leave , this warrant doth not stretch To imprison her . Roch . No ; turn her out of doors , Even as she is , and lead him to the Tower , With guard enough , for fear of rescuing . L. Cob . O God requite thee , thou ...
... Crom . But , by your leave , this warrant doth not stretch To imprison her . Roch . No ; turn her out of doors , Even as she is , and lead him to the Tower , With guard enough , for fear of rescuing . L. Cob . O God requite thee , thou ...
Сторінка 168
... Crom . Good morrow , morn ; I do salute thy brightness . The night seems tedious to my troubled soul , Whose black obscurity binds in my mind A thousand sundry cogitations : And now Aurora with a lively dye Adds comfort to my spirit ...
... Crom . Good morrow , morn ; I do salute thy brightness . The night seems tedious to my troubled soul , Whose black obscurity binds in my mind A thousand sundry cogitations : And now Aurora with a lively dye Adds comfort to my spirit ...
Сторінка 169
... Crom . Father , their hammers do offend my study . Old Crom . Out of my doors , knave , if thou lik'st it not . I cry you mercy ; are your ears so fine ? I tell thee , knave , these get when I do sleep ; I will not have my anvil stand ...
... Crom . Father , their hammers do offend my study . Old Crom . Out of my doors , knave , if thou lik'st it not . I cry you mercy ; are your ears so fine ? I tell thee , knave , these get when I do sleep ; I will not have my anvil stand ...
Загальні терміни та фрази
Albanact Andronicus ASSARACUS Bawd beauty blood Boult brother captain Corineus Crom Cromwell daughter dead death devil DIONYZA dost thou doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith father fear Flow Flowerdale foul gentleman give Goths grace grief hand Harpool hath hear heart heaven Henry Hodge honour Humber husband Idle king knave lady Lavinia live Locrine look Lord Cobham Luce Lucius Lucrece LYSIMACHUS marry Master mistress ne'er never night noble Oath Oliver Pericles pity poor pray prince PRINCE OF TYRE revenge Roch Rome SCENE Scythians shame Sir John Sir John Oldcastle Sir Lanc Sir Lancelot Sirrah sorrow soul speak sweet Tamora tears tell thee there's thine thou art thou hast thou shalt thought Thra thyself Titus TITUS ANDRONICUS tongue troth true unto villain Weath weep wife wilt words
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Сторінка 465 - And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight : Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.
Сторінка 478 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
Сторінка 463 - Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed, The dear repose for limbs with travel tired; But then begins a journey in my head...
Сторінка 472 - The one doth shadow of your beauty show, The other as your bounty doth appear; And you in every blessed shape we know.
Сторінка 473 - When summer's breath their masked buds discloses; But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwoo'd and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made.
Сторінка 464 - When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope...
Сторінка 500 - But wherefore says she not she is unjust ? And wherefore say not I that I am old ? O, love's best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told: Therefore I lie with her and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.
Сторінка 474 - gainst his glory fight, And Time that gave doth now his gift confound. Time doth transfix the flourish set on youth And delves the parallels in beauty's brow, Feeds on the rarities of nature's truth, And nothing stands but for his scythe to mow; And yet to times in hope my verse shall stand, Praising thy worth, despite his cruel hand.
Сторінка 464 - When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought, And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste...
Сторінка 473 - Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire ? I have no precious time at all to spend, Nor services to do, till you require. Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour When you have bid your servant once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose, But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are how...