Achilles againſt Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Caufe Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Crown Curfe Death Diomede doth Duke Duke of York e'er Edward Emperor Enter Exeunt Exit Eyes fafe faid Father fear felf felves fent fhall fhew fhould flain fome fpeak Friends ftand ftill ftrange fuch fure fweet Goths Grace Haftings Hand hath hear Heart Heaven Hector Henry himſelf Honour i'th King Lady laft Lart Lavinia Lord Lord Chamberlain Love Lucius Madam Marcus 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 tell thee thefe Ther theſe thine thofe thou art Titus Titus Andronicus Tongue Troi Troilus unto Vlyf Warwick whofe York
Pagina 1754 - 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.
Pagina 1821 - Twixt right and wrong ; for pleasure and revenge Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.
Pagina 1763 - Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely...
Pagina 1838 - Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright: To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Pagina 1757 - I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it.
Pagina 1839 - 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 1757 - tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.