The Plays of William Shakespeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Band 11 |
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Seite 23
He is in heaven , where thou shalt never come . Glo . Let him thank me , that holp
to send him thither ; For he was fitter for that place , than earth . Anne . And thou
unfit for any place , but hell . Glo . Yes , one place else , if you will hear me name
...
He is in heaven , where thou shalt never come . Glo . Let him thank me , that holp
to send him thither ; For he was fitter for that place , than earth . Anne . And thou
unfit for any place , but hell . Glo . Yes , one place else , if you will hear me name
...
Seite 37
Foul wrinkled witch , what mak'st thou in my sight ? 1 Q. Mar. But repetition of
what thou hast marr'd ; That will I make , before I let thee go . Glo . Wert thou not
banished , on pain of death ?? Q. Mar. I was ; but I do find more pain in
banishment ...
Foul wrinkled witch , what mak'st thou in my sight ? 1 Q. Mar. But repetition of
what thou hast marr'd ; That will I make , before I let thee go . Glo . Wert thou not
banished , on pain of death ?? Q. Mar. I was ; but I do find more pain in
banishment ...
Seite 39
Long may'st thou live , to wail thy children's loss ; And see another , as I see thee
now , Deck'd in thy rights , as thou art stall'd in mine ! Long die thy happy days
before thy death ; And , after many lengthen'd hours of grief , Die neither mother ...
Long may'st thou live , to wail thy children's loss ; And see another , as I see thee
now , Deck'd in thy rights , as thou art stall'd in mine ! Long die thy happy days
before thy death ; And , after many lengthen'd hours of grief , Die neither mother ...
Seite 41
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins ! Thou rag of honour ! 2 thou detested Glo
. Margaret . P. Mar. Richard ! Glo . Ha ? Q. Mar. I call thee not . Glo . I cry thee
mercy then ; for I did think , That thou had'st call'd me all these bitter names . Q.
Mar.
Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins ! Thou rag of honour ! 2 thou detested Glo
. Margaret . P. Mar. Richard ! Glo . Ha ? Q. Mar. I call thee not . Glo . I cry thee
mercy then ; for I did think , That thou had'st call'd me all these bitter names . Q.
Mar.
Seite 138
Ah , that thou would'st as soon afford a grave , As thou canst yield a melancholy
seat ; Then would I hide my bones , not rest them here ! Ah , who hath any cause
to mourn , but we ? [ Sitting down by her . Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most ...
Ah , that thou would'st as soon afford a grave , As thou canst yield a melancholy
seat ; Then would I hide my bones , not rest them here ! Ah , who hath any cause
to mourn , but we ? [ Sitting down by her . Q. Mar. If ancient sorrow be most ...
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ancient Anne appears bear believe better blood brother Buck Buckingham called cardinal cause Clarence copy daughter dead death duke Earl edition editors Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt expression eyes fair fall fear folio friends Gent give given Gloster grace hand Hastings hath head hear heart heaven highness Holinshed honour hope hour Johnson King Henry King Richard king's lady leave live look lord madam Malone means mind mother Murd nature never night noble once passage perhaps person play poor pray present prince quarto queen Rich Richard Richmond royal scene seems sense sent Shakspeare Sir Thomas soul speak stand Steevens suppose tell thee thing thou thought Tower true unto Vice wife Wolsey York young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 291 - 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' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin.
Seite 12 - 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...
Seite 310 - Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Seite 207 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Seite 11 - But I— that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass— I— that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph...
Seite 47 - Upon the hatches : thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us.
Seite 49 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that, with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell, — Such terrible impression made my dream.
Seite 175 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Seite 296 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; 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, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr...
Seite 295 - 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.