William Shakspeare's Complete Works, Dramatic and Poetic, Band 2 |
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Seite 4
Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance, France is revolted from the
English quite; Except some petty towns of no ... The tenth of August last, this
dreadful lord, Retiring from the siege of Orleans, Having full scarce six thousand
in his ...
Lords, view these letters, full of bad mischance, France is revolted from the
English quite; Except some petty towns of no ... The tenth of August last, this
dreadful lord, Retiring from the siege of Orleans, Having full scarce six thousand
in his ...
Seite 13
No, my good lords, it is not that offends; It is not that, that hath incens'd the duke: It
is, because no one should sway but he; No one, but he, should be about the ...
Methinks, my lord should be religious, And know the office that belongs to such.
No, my good lords, it is not that offends; It is not that, that hath incens'd the duke: It
is, because no one should sway but he; No one, but he, should be about the ...
Methinks, my lord should be religious, And know the office that belongs to such.
Seite 17
Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In
honour of my noble lord of York,+ Dar'st thou maintain the former words thouspak'
st? Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your ...
Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In
honour of my noble lord of York,+ Dar'st thou maintain the former words thouspak'
st? Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your ...
Seite 18
With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. Bas. And I with him; for he hath
done me wronK. Hen. Wài is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me
know, and then I'll answer you. Bas. Crossing the sea from England into France, ...
With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. Bas. And I with him; for he hath
done me wronK. Hen. Wài is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me
know, and then I'll answer you. Bas. Crossing the sea from England into France, ...
Seite 21
O my lear lord! lo, where your son is rine : Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us
here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of J.;; Two
Talbots, winged through the lither sky, In thy despite, shall 'scape mortality.—
Othou ...
O my lear lord! lo, where your son is rine : Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us
here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of J.;; Two
Talbots, winged through the lither sky, In thy despite, shall 'scape mortality.—
Othou ...
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answer Antony arms attend bear better blood bring brother Caesar cause comes daughter dead dear death dost doth duke Enter Ereunt Erit eyes face fair fall father fear fight follow fool fortune friends give gods gone grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Henry hold honour hope hour I'll Iago keep king lady Lear leave live look lord madam master mean mind mother nature never night noble once peace poor pray present prince queen rest Rich Rome SCENTE Serv shame soldiers soul speak stand stay sweet sword tears tell thank thee thine thing thou thou art thought tongue true unto wife York
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 437 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me ! You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass : and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.
Seite 386 - I'll kneel down And ask of thee forgiveness: so we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, — Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out; — And take...
Seite 242 - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him : For I have neither wit...
Seite 408 - It was the lark , the herald of the morn , No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Seite 135 - 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...
Seite 85 - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity; And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Seite 134 - O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,* More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Seite 66 - God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
Seite 92 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
Seite 435 - That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.