The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes ; Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected: with Notes, Explanatory, and Critical:, Band 6H. Lintott, C. Hitch, J. and R. Tonson, C. Corbet, R. and B. Wellington, J. Brindley, and E. New, 1740 |
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Seite 10
Now by Apollo , King , Thou fwear'ft thy gods in vain . Lear . O vaffal ! mifcreant ! [ Laying his hand on his fword . Alb . Corn . Dear Sir , forbear . Kent . Kill thy phyfician , and thy fee bestow Upon the foul difeafe ; revoke thy ...
Now by Apollo , King , Thou fwear'ft thy gods in vain . Lear . O vaffal ! mifcreant ! [ Laying his hand on his fword . Alb . Corn . Dear Sir , forbear . Kent . Kill thy phyfician , and thy fee bestow Upon the foul difeafe ; revoke thy ...
Seite 12
Gods , Gods ! ' tis ftrange , that from their cold'ft neglect My love fhould kindle to enflam'd respect . Thy dow'rless daughter , King , thrown to my chance , Is Queen of us , of ours , and our It 12 King LEA R. Must be a faith, ...
Gods , Gods ! ' tis ftrange , that from their cold'ft neglect My love fhould kindle to enflam'd respect . Thy dow'rless daughter , King , thrown to my chance , Is Queen of us , of ours , and our It 12 King LEA R. Must be a faith, ...
Seite 15
I grow , I profper ; Now , Gods , ftand up for baltards ! legitimate To him , Enter Glo'fter . Glo . Kent banish'd thus ! and France in choler parted ! And the King gone to night ! fubfcrib'd his pow'r ! Confin'd to exhibition ! all ...
I grow , I profper ; Now , Gods , ftand up for baltards ! legitimate To him , Enter Glo'fter . Glo . Kent banish'd thus ! and France in choler parted ! And the King gone to night ! fubfcrib'd his pow'r ! Confin'd to exhibition ! all ...
Seite 47
Corn . Fie , Sir ! fie ! Lear . You nimble lightnings , dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes ! infect her beauty , You fen - fuck'd fogs , drawn by the pow'rful fun To fall , and blast her pride . Reg . O the bleft Gods !
Corn . Fie , Sir ! fie ! Lear . You nimble lightnings , dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes ! infect her beauty , You fen - fuck'd fogs , drawn by the pow'rful fun To fall , and blast her pride . Reg . O the bleft Gods !
Seite 51
You see me here , you Gods , a poor old man , As full of grief as age ; wretched in both ! If it be you , that ftir thefe daughters ' hearts Against their father , fool me not fo much To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger ...
You see me here , you Gods , a poor old man , As full of grief as age ; wretched in both ! If it be you , that ftir thefe daughters ' hearts Against their father , fool me not fo much To bear it tamely ; touch me with noble anger ...
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