The dramatic works of William Shakspeare. Whittingham's ed, Volumul 5 |
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Pagina 14
... Hand . Rut . O , let me pray before I take my death : - To thee I pray ; Sweet Clifford , pity me ! Cliff . Such pity as my rapier's point affords . Rut . I never did thee harm ; Why wilt thou slay me ? Cliff . Thy father hath . Rut ...
... Hand . Rut . O , let me pray before I take my death : - To thee I pray ; Sweet Clifford , pity me ! Cliff . Such pity as my rapier's point affords . Rut . I never did thee harm ; Why wilt thou slay me ? Cliff . Thy father hath . Rut ...
Pagina 16
... hand between his teeth , When he might spurn him with his foot away ? It is war's prize to take all vantages ; And ten to one is no impeach of valour . [ They lay Hands on York , who struggles . Cliff . Ay , ay , so strives the woodcock ...
... hand between his teeth , When he might spurn him with his foot away ? It is war's prize to take all vantages ; And ten to one is no impeach of valour . [ They lay Hands on York , who struggles . Cliff . Ay , ay , so strives the woodcock ...
Pagina 19
... hand ! - Hard - hearted Clifford , take me from the world ; My soul to heaven , my blood upon your heads ! North . Had he been slaughterman to all my I should not for my life but weep with him , To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul ...
... hand ! - Hard - hearted Clifford , take me from the world ; My soul to heaven , my blood upon your heads ! North . Had he been slaughterman to all my I should not for my life but weep with him , To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul ...
Pagina 22
... hand to hand , he would have vanquish'd thee ! -- Now my soul's palace is become a prison : Ah , would she break from hence ! that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest : For never henceforth shall I joy again , Never ...
... hand to hand , he would have vanquish'd thee ! -- Now my soul's palace is become a prison : Ah , would she break from hence ! that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest : For never henceforth shall I joy again , Never ...
Pagina 24
... hand of mine Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head , And wring the awful sceptre from his fist ; Were he as famous and as bold in war , As he is fam'd for mildness , peace , and prayer . Rich . I know it well , lord Warwick ...
... hand of mine Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head , And wring the awful sceptre from his fist ; Were he as famous and as bold in war , As he is fam'd for mildness , peace , and prayer . Rich . I know it well , lord Warwick ...
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Anne Apem Apemantus bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Clifford Cres Cressid crown death Diomed dost doth Duch duke duke of York Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear Flav fool fortune friends Gent gentle give Gloster gods grace hand hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Henry honour house of Lancaster i'the Kath king lady live look Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings lord Timon lordship Lucullus madam Menelaus Murd ne'er never noble o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pity Poet pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Rich Richard SCENE Serv Servant soul speak Surry sweet sword tell thee Ther There's Thersites thine thou art thou hast thyself Troilus Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Warwick York
Pasaje populare
Pagina 17 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe...
Pagina 33 - God! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run: How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live.
Pagina 56 - O'errun and trampled on : then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours ; For time is like a fashionable host That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, And with his arms outstretch'd, as he would fly, Grasps-in the comer : welcome ever smiles, And farewell goes out sighing.
Pagina 63 - 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...
Pagina 7 - Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Pagina 16 - Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad : but when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues and what portents! what mutiny! What raging of the...
Pagina 73 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Pagina 59 - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd 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.
Pagina 101 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Pagina 28 - Come not to me again : but say to Athens, Timon hath made his everlasting mansion Upon the beached verge of the salt flood ; Which once a day with his embossed froth The turbulent surge shall cover ; thither come, And let my grave-stone be your oracle.