The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare: With a Life, Том 4C & C Whittingham, 1828 |
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Страница 19
... tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband grovelling lies , Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth ; And victory , with little loss , doth play Upon the dancing banners of ...
... tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband grovelling lies , Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth ; And victory , with little loss , doth play Upon the dancing banners of ...
Страница 40
... tear is mine ; My name is Constance : I was Geffrey's wife ; Young Arthur is my son , and he is lost : I am not mad : -I would to heaven , I were ! For then , ' tis like I should forget myself : O , if I could , what grief should I ...
... tear is mine ; My name is Constance : I was Geffrey's wife ; Young Arthur is my son , and he is lost : I am not mad : -I would to heaven , I were ! For then , ' tis like I should forget myself : O , if I could , what grief should I ...
Страница 45
... tears.- Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ ? Arth . Too fairly , Hubert , for so foul effect : Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? Hub . Young boy , I must . Arth . Hub . And will you ? And I will . Arth . Have you ...
... tears.- Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ ? Arth . Too fairly , Hubert , for so foul effect : Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? Hub . Young boy , I must . Arth . Hub . And will you ? And I will . Arth . Have you ...
Страница 56
... d wrath , or staring rage , Presented to the tears of soft remorse . Pem . All murders past do stand excus'd in this : And this , so sole , and so unmatchable , Shall give a holiness , a purity , To the 56 ACT IV . KING JOHN .
... d wrath , or staring rage , Presented to the tears of soft remorse . Pem . All murders past do stand excus'd in this : And this , so sole , and so unmatchable , Shall give a holiness , a purity , To the 56 ACT IV . KING JOHN .
Страница 63
... tears , Being an ordinary inundation ; But this effusion of such manly drops , This shower , blown up by tempest of the soul , Startles mine eyes , and makes me more amaz'd Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figur'd quite o'er ...
... tears , Being an ordinary inundation ; But this effusion of such manly drops , This shower , blown up by tempest of the soul , Startles mine eyes , and makes me more amaz'd Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figur'd quite o'er ...
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arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Const cousin crown dead death dost thou doth Duch duke earl Eastcheap England Enter KING Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff Farewell father FAULCONBRIDGE fear France friends Gaunt give Glend grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven HENRY hither honour horse Host Hubert JAMES GURNEY John of Gaunt KING JOHN King Richard Lady Lancaster land liege live look lord majesty master never night noble North Northumberland peace Percy Pist Poins pr'ythee pray prince PRINCE JOHN prince of Wales Queen Re-enter Rich SCENE Shal Shallow shame Sir John Sir John Falstaff soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle Westmoreland wilt word York
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Страница 90 - O ! who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Страница 117 - Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and, humour'd thus Comes at the last and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king...
Страница 224 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? no: or an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no. Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o
Страница 116 - Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs ; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. Let's choose executors, and talk of wills: And yet not so, — for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground ? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own, but death ; And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Страница 190 - Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
Страница 41 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.