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 17
... sword ; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast , And let the soul forth that adoreth thee , I lay it naked to the deadly stroke , And humbly beg the death upon my knee . [ He lays his breast open ; she offers at it with his sword ...
... sword ; Which if thou please to hide in this true breast , And let the soul forth that adoreth thee , I lay it naked to the deadly stroke , And humbly beg the death upon my knee . [ He lays his breast open ; she offers at it with his sword ...
Page 37
... sword , and then throw him into the malmsey butt , in the next room . 2 Murd . O , excellent devise ! and make a sop of him . 1 Murd . Soft ! he wakes . 2 Murd . Strike . 1 Murd . No , we'll reason with him . Clar . Where art thou ...
... sword , and then throw him into the malmsey butt , in the next room . 2 Murd . O , excellent devise ! and make a sop of him . 1 Murd . Soft ! he wakes . 2 Murd . Strike . 1 Murd . No , we'll reason with him . Clar . Where art thou ...
Page 58
... sword , till the process of the story required that both the protector and the protected should be carried off by the fiend , or the latter driven roaring from the stage by some miraculous interposition in favor of the repentant ...
... sword , till the process of the story required that both the protector and the protected should be carried off by the fiend , or the latter driven roaring from the stage by some miraculous interposition in favor of the repentant ...
Page 59
... sword to it ? Glo . Ay , gentle cousin , were it light enough . York . O then , I see , you'll part but with light gifts . In weightier things you'll say a beggar , nay . Glo . It is too weighty for your grace to wear . York . I weigh ...
... sword to it ? Glo . Ay , gentle cousin , were it light enough . York . O then , I see , you'll part but with light gifts . In weightier things you'll say a beggar , nay . Glo . It is too weighty for your grace to wear . York . I weigh ...
Page 109
... sword un- swayed ? Is the king dead , the empire unpossessed ? What heir of York is there alive , but we ? 1 And who is England's king , but great York's heir ? Then , tell me , what makes he upon the seas ? Stan . Unless for that , my ...
... sword un- swayed ? Is the king dead , the empire unpossessed ? What heir of York is there alive , but we ? 1 And who is England's king , but great York's heir ? Then , tell me , what makes he upon the seas ? Stan . Unless for that , my ...
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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 234 - In her days, every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine, what he plants : and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours : God shall be truly known ; and those about her, From her shall read the perfect ways of honour, And by those claim their greatness, not by blood.
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 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 202 - Long in his highness' favor, and do justice For truth's sake, and his conscience ; that his bones, When he has run his course, and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans' tears wept on 'em !
Page 34 - Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, ' What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...
Page 7 - Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
Page 210 - 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...
Page 196 - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his holiness. Nay, then, farewell ! I have touched 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.