The plays of William Shakespeare, with the corrections and illustr. of various commentators, to which are added notes by S. Johnson, Volumul 4 |
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Pagina 5
... must be cool'd for this . Yet can I not of fuch tame patience boaft , As to be husht , and nought at all to fay . my zeal ; First , the fair Rev'rence of your Highnefs curbs me , From giving reins and fpurs to my free fpeech ; Which ...
... must be cool'd for this . Yet can I not of fuch tame patience boaft , As to be husht , and nought at all to fay . my zeal ; First , the fair Rev'rence of your Highnefs curbs me , From giving reins and fpurs to my free fpeech ; Which ...
Pagina 11
... must end her life . 8 A caitiff recreant- ] Cai- tiff originally fignified a prisoner ; next a flave , from the condition of prisoners ; then a Scoundrel , from the qualities of a flave . Ημισυ τῆς ἀρετῆς ἀπεαίνυλαι δύλιον μας . In this ...
... must end her life . 8 A caitiff recreant- ] Cai- tiff originally fignified a prisoner ; next a flave , from the condition of prisoners ; then a Scoundrel , from the qualities of a flave . Ημισυ τῆς ἀρετῆς ἀπεαίνυλαι δύλιον μας . In this ...
Pagina 12
William Shakespeare Samuel Johnson. Gaunt . Sifter , farewel ; I must to Coventry . As much Good stay with thee , as go with me ; Dutch . Yet one word more - grief boundeth where it falls , Not with the empty hollownefs , but weight : I ...
William Shakespeare Samuel Johnson. Gaunt . Sifter , farewel ; I must to Coventry . As much Good stay with thee , as go with me ; Dutch . Yet one word more - grief boundeth where it falls , Not with the empty hollownefs , but weight : I ...
Pagina 18
... must my comfort be , That Sun , that warms you here , fhall fhine on me : And thofe his golden beams , to you here lent , Shall point on me , and gild my Banishment . K. Rich . Norfolk , for thee remains a heavier Doom , Which I with ...
... must my comfort be , That Sun , that warms you here , fhall fhine on me : And thofe his golden beams , to you here lent , Shall point on me , and gild my Banishment . K. Rich . Norfolk , for thee remains a heavier Doom , Which I with ...
Pagina 32
... must be bankrupt fo ! Though death be poor , it ends a mortal woe . K. Rich . The ripeft fruit firft falls , and fo doth he ; His time is fpent , our pilgrimage must be . So much for that . Now for our Irish wars ; We must fupplant ...
... must be bankrupt fo ! Though death be poor , it ends a mortal woe . K. Rich . The ripeft fruit firft falls , and fo doth he ; His time is fpent , our pilgrimage must be . So much for that . Now for our Irish wars ; We must fupplant ...
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The plays of William Shakespeare, with the corrections and ..., Volumul 4 William Shakespeare Vizualizare completă - 1765 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
againſt anfwer bafe Bard Bardolph becauſe blood Boling Bolingbroke caufe coufin Crown Dauphin death doft doth Duke Duke of Burgundy England Enter Exeunt Exit faid Falstaff fame father fear feems fenfe fent fhall fhame fhew fhould fight fince firft flain foldiers fome foul fpeak fpeech fpirit France French ftand ftill fuch fuppofe fweet fword Gaunt give Glou Grace Harry hath heart heav'n Henry himſelf Hoft honour horfe Juft King lord lord of Westmorland mafter Majefty moft moſt muft muſt myſelf never night noble Northumberland paffage peace Percy Pift pleaſe Poins POPE pow'r prefent prifoners Prince Prince of Wales Pucel reafon reft Reignier Richard Richard Plantagenet SCENE Shakespeare Shal ſhall Sir Dagonet Sir John ſpeak Talbot tell thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thofe thoſe thou art thouſand unto uſed WARBURTON Weft whofe word York
Pasaje populare
Pagina 134 - 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 287 - O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Pagina 111 - 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 28 - This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out, I die pronouncing it, Like to a tenement or pelting farm: England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, Is now bound in with shame, With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds : That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Pagina 299 - I'll ne'er bear a base mind: — an't be my destiny, so; an't be not, so: No man's too good to serve his prince ; and, let it go which way it will, he that dies this year, is quit for the next.
Pagina 215 - 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 468 - O God, thy arm was here, And not to us, but to thy arm alone, Ascribe we all. When, without stratagem, But in plain shock, and even play of battle, Was ever known so great and little loss On one part and on the other ? — Take it, God, For it is only thine ! Exe.
Pagina 406 - Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Pagina 407 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding— which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: Follow your spirit; and upon this charge Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
Pagina 28 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry...