The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts, Volumul 4Jacob Tonson, within Grays-Inn Gate, next Grays-Inn Lane., 1709 |
Din interiorul cărții
Rezultatele 1 - 5 din 60
Pagina 1548
... Hold , my Lord . York . Ay , with my Sword . What , think'ft thou that we fear them ? Edward and Richard , you shall stay with me , My Brother Montague fhall poft to Londen . Let noble Warwick , Cobham , and the reft , Whom we have left ...
... Hold , my Lord . York . Ay , with my Sword . What , think'ft thou that we fear them ? Edward and Richard , you shall stay with me , My Brother Montague fhall poft to Londen . Let noble Warwick , Cobham , and the reft , Whom we have left ...
Pagina 1551
... Hold , valiant Clifford , for a thoufand caufes I would prolong a while the Traitor's Life : Wrath makes him deaf ; speak thou , Northumberland . North . Hold Clifford , do not honour him so much , To prick thy Finger , though to wound ...
... Hold , valiant Clifford , for a thoufand caufes I would prolong a while the Traitor's Life : Wrath makes him deaf ; speak thou , Northumberland . North . Hold Clifford , do not honour him so much , To prick thy Finger , though to wound ...
Pagina 1552
... Hold you his Hands , whilft I do fet it on . [ Putting a Paper Crown on his Heads Ay marry , Sir , now looks he like a King : Ay , this is he that took King Henry's Chair , And this is he was his adopted Heir . But how is it , that ...
... Hold you his Hands , whilft I do fet it on . [ Putting a Paper Crown on his Heads Ay marry , Sir , now looks he like a King : Ay , this is he that took King Henry's Chair , And this is he was his adopted Heir . But how is it , that ...
Pagina 1560
... hold Revenge , dear God , ' tis not my fault , Nor wittingly have I infring'd my Vow . Clif . My gracious Liege , this too much Lenity And harmless Pity must be laid aside : To whom do Lions çaft their gentle Looks ? Not to the Beaft ...
... hold Revenge , dear God , ' tis not my fault , Nor wittingly have I infring'd my Vow . Clif . My gracious Liege , this too much Lenity And harmless Pity must be laid aside : To whom do Lions çaft their gentle Looks ? Not to the Beaft ...
Pagina 1561
... hold thine own , and leave thine own with him . King . Full well hath Clifford plaid the Orator , Inferring Arguments of mighty Force : But , Clifford , tell me , didft thou never hear , That things ill got , had ever bad Succefs . And ...
... hold thine own , and leave thine own with him . King . Full well hath Clifford plaid the Orator , Inferring Arguments of mighty Force : But , Clifford , tell me , didft thou never hear , That things ill got , had ever bad Succefs . And ...
Alte ediții - Afișează-le pe toate
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd ..., Volumul 4 William Shakespeare Vizualizare completă - 1709 |
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Eight Volumes. Adorn'd with Cutts William Shakespeare,Nicholas Rowe Vizualizare completă - 1714 |
The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Eight Volumes. Adorn'd ..., Volumul 4 William Shakespeare Vizualizare completă - 1714 |
Termeni și expresii frecvente
Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Calchas Caufe Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Coufin Crown Curfe Death defire Diomede doth Duke Duke of York e'er Edward Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes fafe faid Farewel Father fear felf felves fent fhall fhew fhould flain fome fpeak Friends ftand ftay ftill fuch fweet give Goths Grace Haftings Hand hath hear Heart Heav'n Hector Henry himſelf Honour i'th King Lady Lavinia lefs Lord Lord Chamberlain Love Lucius Madam Martius moft morrow muft muſt Noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Peace pleaſe pleaſure pray prefent Priam Prince Queen Reafon reft Rich Rome ſhall Soul ſpeak Sword Tears tell thee thefe Ther theſe thine thofe thou art Titus Titus Andronicus Tongue Troi Troilus unto Vlyf Warwick whofe
Pasaje populare
Pagina 1630 - Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
Pagina 1774 - 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.
Pagina 1776 - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...
Pagina 1859 - 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. O ! let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was ; For beauty, wit, High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, That all with one consent praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded...
Pagina 1567 - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many years...
Pagina 1777 - Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not ; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Pagina 1839 - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
Pagina 1775 - 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.
Pagina 1782 - 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...
Pagina 1749 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.