The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators. To which are Added NotesT. Longman, 1793 |
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Pagina 17
... whose form thou bear'st : Kneel thou down Philip , but arife more great ; Arife fir Richard , and Plantagenet . ' BAST . Brother by the mother's fide , give me your hand ; My father gave me honour , yours gave land : - Now bleffed be ...
... whose form thou bear'st : Kneel thou down Philip , but arife more great ; Arife fir Richard , and Plantagenet . ' BAST . Brother by the mother's fide , give me your hand ; My father gave me honour , yours gave land : - Now bleffed be ...
Pagina 30
... Whose foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides , And coops from other lands her islanders , Even till that England , hedg'd in with the main , That water - walled bulwark , ftill fecure And confident from foreign purposes , Even till ...
... Whose foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides , And coops from other lands her islanders , Even till that England , hedg'd in with the main , That water - walled bulwark , ftill fecure And confident from foreign purposes , Even till ...
Pagina 43
... Whose title they admit , Arthur's or John's . Trumpets found . Enter Citizens upon the walls . I CIT . Who is it , that hath warn'd us to the walls ? K. PHI . ' Tis France , for England . K. JOHN . England , for itself : You men of ...
... Whose title they admit , Arthur's or John's . Trumpets found . Enter Citizens upon the walls . I CIT . Who is it , that hath warn'd us to the walls ? K. PHI . ' Tis France , for England . K. JOHN . England , for itself : You men of ...
Pagina 48
... Whose fons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband groveling lies , Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth ; And victory , with little lofs , doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French ; Who are at hand ...
... Whose fons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband groveling lies , Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth ; And victory , with little lofs , doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French ; Who are at hand ...
Pagina 49
... whose fuperiority , or whose inequality , cannot be cenfured . MALONE . So , in King Henry VI . Part I : " If you do cenfure me by what you were , " Not what you are . " STEEVENS . Enter , at one fide , King JOHN , with VOL . VIII . E ...
... whose fuperiority , or whose inequality , cannot be cenfured . MALONE . So , in King Henry VI . Part I : " If you do cenfure me by what you were , " Not what you are . " STEEVENS . Enter , at one fide , King JOHN , with VOL . VIII . E ...
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections ... William Shakespeare Vizualizare completă - 1793 |
The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections ... William Shakespeare Vizualizare completă - 1793 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
againſt alfo Aumerle Baftard BAST becauſe blood BOLING Bolingbroke called coufin death doft doth Duke Duke of Hereford duke of Norfolk Earl England Engliſh Exeunt expreffion fack faid Falſtaff fame Faulconbridge fays fcene fecond feems fenfe fhall fhould fignifies fince firft firſt folio fome forrow foul fpeak fpeech ftand ftate ftill fubject fuch fuppofe fweet Gaunt grief hath heaven Henry VI himſelf honour itſelf John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King John King Richard KING RICHARD II lady laft loft lord majefty MALONE means Merick Mortimer moſt muft muſt myſelf night obferves old copies old play paffage Percy perfon POINS Pope prefent prince purpoſe quarto Queen Rape of Lucrece reafon RICH ſay Shakspeare ſhall Sir John Sir John Oldcastle ſpeak STEEVENS thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thofe thoſe thou art thouſand ufed uſed WARBURTON whofe word
Pasaje populare
Pagina 462 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Pagina 110 - 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 ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Pagina 124 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Pagina 359 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks ; So he that doth redeem her thence might wear Without corrival all her dignities : But out upon this half-faced fellowship ! Wor.
Pagina 520 - tis no matter ; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o
Pagina 74 - As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months.
Pagina 504 - Tut, tut ! good enough to toss ; food for powder, food for powder ; they'll fill a pit, as well as better ; tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
Pagina 236 - 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...
Pagina 315 - To chase these pagans in those holy fields Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross.
Pagina 345 - But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...