The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fuseli, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, a Life of Shakespeare, &c. by Alexander Chalmers, Том 5F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805 |
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Страница 13
... comes answer like an ABC - book : R— O sir , says answer , at your best command ; At your employment ; at your service , sir : - No , sir , says question , I , sweet sir , at yours : And so , ere answer knows what question would ...
... comes answer like an ABC - book : R— O sir , says answer , at your best command ; At your employment ; at your service , sir : - No , sir , says question , I , sweet sir , at yours : And so , ere answer knows what question would ...
Страница 20
... comes it then , that thou art call'd a king , When living blood doth in these temples beat , Which owe the crown that thou o'er - masterest ? K. John . From whom hast thou this great com- mission , France , To draw my answer from thy ...
... comes it then , that thou art call'd a king , When living blood doth in these temples beat , Which owe the crown that thou o'er - masterest ? K. John . From whom hast thou this great com- mission , France , To draw my answer from thy ...
Страница 43
... comes the holy legate of the pope . Pand . Hail , you anointed deputies of heaven ! - To thee , King John , my holy errand is . I Pandulph , of fair Milan cardinal , And from pope Innocent the legate here , Do , in his name ...
... comes the holy legate of the pope . Pand . Hail , you anointed deputies of heaven ! - To thee , King John , my holy errand is . I Pandulph , of fair Milan cardinal , And from pope Innocent the legate here , Do , in his name ...
Страница 55
... comes here ! a grave unto a soul ; Holding the eternal spirit , against her will , In the vile prison of afflicted breath : - I pr'ythee , lady , go away with me . Const . Lo , now ! now see the issue of your peace ! K. Phi . Patience ...
... comes here ! a grave unto a soul ; Holding the eternal spirit , against her will , In the vile prison of afflicted breath : - I pr'ythee , lady , go away with me . Const . Lo , now ! now see the issue of your peace ! K. Phi . Patience ...
Страница 87
... comes apace , " Between compulsion and a brave respect ! This compulsion was the necessity of a reformation in the state ; which , according to Salisbury's opinion , ( who , in his speech preceding , calls it an enforced cause , ) could ...
... comes apace , " Between compulsion and a brave respect ! This compulsion was the necessity of a reformation in the state ; which , according to Salisbury's opinion , ( who , in his speech preceding , calls it an enforced cause , ) could ...
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arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Const cousin crown dead death doth Duch duke duke of Hereford earl Eastcheap England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear France friends Gaunt give Glend Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven honour horse Host Hotspur Hubert John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King John King Richard Lady Lancaster land liege look lord majesty master never night noble Northumberland peace Percy Pist play Poins pray prince Prince JOHN prince of Wales Queen Rich SCENE Shakspeare Shal Shallow shame sir John sir John Falstaff soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle villain Westmoreland wilt word York
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Страница 387 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down.
Страница 228 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. {Exit POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
Страница 163 - And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings : — How some have been depos'd, some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd ; Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd ; All murder'd : — For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps death his court : and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning...
Страница 230 - Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home ; He was perfumed like a milliner ; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and...
Страница 63 - Or, What good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; But you, at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an' if you will ; If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you ? Hub.
Страница 102 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Страница 315 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why? Detraction will, not suffer it: — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.
Страница 63 - I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Страница 195 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Страница 315 - 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 that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o