The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare, Том 19

Передня обкладинка
F. C. and J. Rivington; T. Egerton; J. Cuthell; Scatcherd and Letterman; Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown; Cadell and Davies ... [and 28 others in London], J. Deighton and sons, Cambridge: Wilson and son, York: and Stirling and Slade, Fairbairn and Anderson, and D. Brown, Edinburgh., 1821

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Сторінка 10 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Сторінка 425 - 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 55 - And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy ; And, in my company, my brother Gloster : Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches ; thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster That had befall'n us.
Сторінка 448 - After my death I wish no other herald,. 'No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Сторінка 430 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell...
Сторінка 56 - I 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 425 - 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.
Сторінка 305 - I COME no more to make you laugh : things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Сторінка 441 - 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 426 - 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

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