Shakspere's Werke, herausg. und erklärt von N. Delius. [With] Nachträge und Berichtigungen, Volume 4 |
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Page 104
King of Englands owne proper cost and char - Buck . But let vs watch this
haughtie Cardinall , ges without dowry . Cosen of Somerset be rulde by me , King
. They please vs well , Lord Marquesse Weele watch Duke Humphrey and the ...
King of Englands owne proper cost and char - Buck . But let vs watch this
haughtie Cardinall , ges without dowry . Cosen of Somerset be rulde by me , King
. They please vs well , Lord Marquesse Weele watch Duke Humphrey and the ...
Page xiii
Buck . Farewell my Lord . ( Eret BUCKINGHAM . Cardin . I scorne thy words .
Yorke . Whose within there . Humph . Make yp no factious numbers , but Enter
one . even in thine own person meeto me at the One . My Lord . East end of the
groue .
Buck . Farewell my Lord . ( Eret BUCKINGHAM . Cardin . I scorne thy words .
Yorke . Whose within there . Humph . Make yp no factious numbers , but Enter
one . even in thine own person meeto me at the One . My Lord . East end of the
groue .
Page xiv
Enter the Duke of BUCKINGHAM . Poore man . I know not . Humphrey . Nor his ?
Poore man . No truly sir . What powes brings Duke Humprey of Humphrey . Nor
his name ? Buckingham ? Poore man . No indeed maister . | Buck . Ill newes for ...
Enter the Duke of BUCKINGHAM . Poore man . I know not . Humphrey . Nor his ?
Poore man . No truly sir . What powes brings Duke Humprey of Humphrey . Nor
his name ? Buckingham ? Poore man . No indeed maister . | Buck . Ill newes for ...
Page xviii
Buck . Hele wrest the sence and keep ys York . Tis thought my lord , your grace
here all day , tooke bribes from France , My Lord of Winchester , see him sent
away . And stopt the soldiers of their paie , Car . Who ' s within there ? Take in
Duke ...
Buck . Hele wrest the sence and keep ys York . Tis thought my lord , your grace
here all day , tooke bribes from France , My Lord of Winchester , see him sent
away . And stopt the soldiers of their paie , Car . Who ' s within there ? Take in
Duke ...
Page xix
To bring to passe the thing which now we doubt , Buck . Then thither shall they
come , and The Foxe barkes not when he would steale the so farewell . ( Exet
BUCKINGHAM . Lambe , Yorke . Adieu my Lord of Buckingham . But if we take
him ...
To bring to passe the thing which now we doubt , Buck . Then thither shall they
come , and The Foxe barkes not when he would steale the so farewell . ( Exet
BUCKINGHAM . Lambe , Yorke . Adieu my Lord of Buckingham . But if we take
him ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade cardinal cause Clarence Clifford comes crown dead death doth Duke earl Edward England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight follow France friends für give Gloster grace hand hast hath haue head hear heart heaven Henry highness Holinshed honour hope Humphrey John keep king King Henry König lady land leave lesen live London look lord Madam Margaret mean mind never night noble once peace poor prince queen rest Rich Richard SCENE sich Somerset soul speak stand Suffolk sweet sword Talbot tell thank thee thing thou thought Tower true unto Warwick Wort York
Popular passages
Page 87 - 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 90 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. 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!
Page 87 - 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 89 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 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...
Page 20 - 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 68 - 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. Everything 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 88 - Why, well ; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
Page i - The king's players had a new play, called All is True, representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry the Eighth, which was set forth with many extraordinary circumstances of pomp and majesty, even to the matting of the stage ; the knights of the order, with their Georges and Garter, the guards with their embroidered coats and the like ; sufficient, in truth, within a while to make greatness very familiar, if not ridiculous.
Page xi - I am as sorry as if the original fault had been my fault, because myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes: besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his art.
Page 87 - 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.