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Anne arms Aufidius bear better blood brother Buck Buckingham cardinal cause Citizens Clarence comes Coriolanus death doth duke Edward Eliz enemies Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear follow friends give gods grace hand Hast hath head hear heart heaven Henry highness honour hope hour JOHNSON Kath keep kind king king's lady leave live look lord madam Marcius master mean mind mother nature never noble once peace person play poor pray present prince queen Rich Richard Rome royal SCENE senate Serv soul speak stand STEEVENS sword tell thank thee thing thou thought tongue Tower true truth unto voices wife York
Сторінка 169 - 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.
Сторінка 169 - 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 177 - This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle, He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
Сторінка 177 - 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...
Сторінка 11 - Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute...
Сторінка 154 - 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 32 - That, as I am a christian faithful man, ' • I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Сторінка 171 - 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...
Сторінка 32 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.