The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: King Richard III. King Henry VIII. Troilus and Cressida. Timon of Athens. CoriolanusPhillips, Sampson, 1850 - 38 стор. |
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Сторінка 7
... arms hung up for monuments ; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings , Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.2 Grim - visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front ; And now , instead of mounting barbed3 steeds , To fright the ...
... arms hung up for monuments ; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings , Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.2 Grim - visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front ; And now , instead of mounting barbed3 steeds , To fright the ...
Сторінка 14
... arm hath butchered ! Glo . Lady , you know no rules of charity , Which renders good for bad , blessings for curses . Anne . Villain , thou know'st no law of God nor man ; No beast so fierce , but knows some touch of pity . Glo . But I ...
... arm hath butchered ! Glo . Lady , you know no rules of charity , Which renders good for bad , blessings for curses . Anne . Villain , thou know'st no law of God nor man ; No beast so fierce , but knows some touch of pity . Glo . But I ...
Сторінка 38
... with several persons who lived at the time , he never could get any certain account of the motives that induced Edward to put his brother to death . Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm ; He 38 [ ACT 1 KING RICHARD III .
... with several persons who lived at the time , he never could get any certain account of the motives that induced Edward to put his brother to death . Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm ; He 38 [ ACT 1 KING RICHARD III .
Сторінка 39
... arm , And charged us from his soul to love each other , He little thought of this divided friendship . Bid Gloster ... arms , and swore , with sobs , That he would labor my delivery . 1 Blooming Plantagenet , a prince in the spring of ...
... arm , And charged us from his soul to love each other , He little thought of this divided friendship . Bid Gloster ... arms , and swore , with sobs , That he would labor my delivery . 1 Blooming Plantagenet , a prince in the spring of ...
Сторінка 47
... arms , And plucked two crutches from my feeble hands , Clarence and Edward . O , what cause have I ( Thine being but a moiety of my grief ) To overgo thy plaints , and drown thy cries ! Son . Ah , aunt ! you wept not for our father's ...
... arms , And plucked two crutches from my feeble hands , Clarence and Edward . O , what cause have I ( Thine being but a moiety of my grief ) To overgo thy plaints , and drown thy cries ! Son . Ah , aunt ! you wept not for our father's ...
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Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Anne Antium Apem Apemantus Aufidius bear beseech blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Cres Cressida curse death Diomed dost doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fear Flav follow fool friends Gent give Gloster gods grace hate hath hear heart Heaven Hect Hector Holinshed honor Kath lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings madam Marcius means Menelaus Menenius mother Murd ne'er never noble Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace Poet pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Rich Richmond Rome SCENE Senators Serv Servant Shakspeare Sir Thomas Lovell soul speak sweet sword tell thee Ther there's Thersites thine thing thou art thou hast Timon Troilus Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Volces word
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Сторінка 201 - 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. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes...
Сторінка 183 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing : To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Сторінка 203 - O my lord ! Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. — •' The king shall have my service ; but my prayers, For ever and for ever, shall be yours.
Сторінка 201 - So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Сторінка 196 - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his holiness. Nay, then, farewell ! I have touched the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Сторінка 202 - Long in his highness' favor, and do justice For truth's sake, and his conscience ; that his bones, When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em !
Сторінка 34 - 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...
Сторінка 204 - ... carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends, thou aim'st at, be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr. Serve the king ; And...
Сторінка 204 - Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Сторінка 210 - O father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye; Give him a little earth for charity...