The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of the Poet, and Notes, Original and Selected..., Volume 5Phillips, Sampson, 1850 |
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Page 10
... noble queen Well struck in years ; fair , and not jealous . We say , that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot , A cherry lip , A bonny eye , a passing pleasing tongue ; And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks . How say you , sir ...
... noble queen Well struck in years ; fair , and not jealous . We say , that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot , A cherry lip , A bonny eye , a passing pleasing tongue ; And that the queen's kindred are made gentlefolks . How say you , sir ...
Page 11
... noble lord , as prisoners must ; But I shall live , my lord , to give them thanks , That were the cause of my imprisonment . Glo . No doubt , no doubt ; and so shall Clarence too ; For they , that were your enemies , are his , And have ...
... noble lord , as prisoners must ; But I shall live , my lord , to give them thanks , That were the cause of my imprisonment . Glo . No doubt , no doubt ; and so shall Clarence too ; For they , that were your enemies , are his , And have ...
Page 18
... noble king , 1 Crosby Place is now Crosby Square , in Bishopsgate Street . This magnificent house was built in 1466 , by sir John Crosby , grocer and woolman . He died in 1475. The ancient hall of this fabric is still re- maining ...
... noble king , 1 Crosby Place is now Crosby Square , in Bishopsgate Street . This magnificent house was built in 1466 , by sir John Crosby , grocer and woolman . He died in 1475. The ancient hall of this fabric is still re- maining ...
Page 26
... noble father laid on thee , - When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper , And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes ; And then , to dry them , gav'st the duke a clout , Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ...
... noble father laid on thee , - When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper , And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes ; And then , to dry them , gav'st the duke a clout , Steeped in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ...
Page 30
... noble house ! Thy garments are not spotted with our blood , Nor thou within the compass of my curse . Buck . Nor no one here ; for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air . Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ...
... noble house ! Thy garments are not spotted with our blood , Nor thou within the compass of my curse . Buck . Nor no one here ; for curses never pass The lips of those that breathe them in the air . Q. Mar. I'll not believe but they ...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Anne Antium Apem Apemantus Aufidius bear beseech blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Cominius Coriolanus Cres Cressida curse death Diomed dost doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fear Flav follow fool friends Gent give Gloster gods grace hate hath hear heart Heaven Hect Hector Holinshed honor Kath king lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings madam Marcius means Menelaus Menenius mother Murd never noble Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace Poet pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Rich Richard Richmond Rome SCENE Senators Serv Servant Shakspeare SIR THOMAS LOVELL soul speak sweet sword tell thee Ther there's Thersites thine thing thou art thou hast Timon Troilus Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Volces word
Popular passages
Page 8 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature, Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them...
Page 201 - 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...
Page 183 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain-tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing : To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
Page 203 - O my lord ! Must I then leave you ? Must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master ? Bear witness, all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. — •' The king shall have my service ; but my prayers, For ever and for ever, shall be yours.
Page 122 - Richard loves Richard ; that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here ? No. Yes, I am : Then fly. What, from myself ? Great reason why : Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself ? Alack ! I love myself. Wherefore ? for any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no ! alas ! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself!
Page 201 - So farewell to the little good you bear me. Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 32 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, — So full of dismal terror was the time ! Brak.
Page 122 - Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What! do I fear myself? there's none else by Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here? No. Yes; I am: Then fly: what! from myself? Great reason why; Lest I revenge. What! myself upon myself? Alack! I love myself. Wherefore? for any good That I myself have done unto myself? O! no: alas! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself.
Page 306 - For honour travels in a strait so narrow, W'here one but goes abreast: keep then the path; For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: If you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright...
Page 263 - 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 : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or, rather, right and wrong, (Between whose endless jar justice resides,) Should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then every thing includes itself in power,...