The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens, Esq. ; with Glossarial Notes, Band 7J. Johnson, 1803 |
Im Buch
Ergebnisse 1-5 von 14
Seite 66
... Cate . He for his father's sake so loves the prince , That he will not be won to aught against him . Buck . What think'st thou then of Stanley ? will not he ? Cate . He will do all in all as Hastings doth . Buck . Well then , no more ...
... Cate . He for his father's sake so loves the prince , That he will not be won to aught against him . Buck . What think'st thou then of Stanley ? will not he ? Cate . He will do all in all as Hastings doth . Buck . Well then , no more ...
Seite 67
... Cate . My good lords both , with all the heed I can . Glo . Shall we hear from you , Catesby , ere we sleep ? Cate . You shall , my lord . Glo . At Crosby - place , there shall you find us both . [ Exit CATESBY . Buck . Now , my lord ...
... Cate . My good lords both , with all the heed I can . Glo . Shall we hear from you , Catesby , ere we sleep ? Cate . You shall , my lord . Glo . At Crosby - place , there shall you find us both . [ Exit CATESBY . Buck . Now , my lord ...
Seite 69
... Cate . Many good morrows to my noble lord ! Hast . Good morrow , Catesby ; you are early stir- ring : What news , what news , in this our tottering state ? Cate . It is a reeling world , indeed , my lord ; And , I believe , will never ...
... Cate . Many good morrows to my noble lord ! Hast . Good morrow , Catesby ; you are early stir- ring : What news , what news , in this our tottering state ? Cate . It is a reeling world , indeed , my lord ; And , I believe , will never ...
Seite 70
... Cate , Ay , on my life ; and hopes to find you for- ward Upon his party , for the gain thereof : And , thereupon , he sends you this good news , - That , this same very day , your enemies , The kindred of the queen , must die at Pomfret ...
... Cate , Ay , on my life ; and hopes to find you for- ward Upon his party , for the gain thereof : And , thereupon , he sends you this good news , - That , this same very day , your enemies , The kindred of the queen , must die at Pomfret ...
Seite 78
... Cate . Despatch , my lord , the duke would be at dinner ; Make a short shrift , he longs to see your head . Hast . O momentary grace of mortal men , Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! Who builds his hope in air of your fair ...
... Cate . Despatch , my lord , the duke would be at dinner ; Make a short shrift , he longs to see your head . Hast . O momentary grace of mortal men , Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! Who builds his hope in air of your fair ...
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor arms bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence cousin Cres Cressid Crom curse death Deiphobus Diomed DIOMEDES Dorset doth Duch duke duke of Norfolk Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen Helenus holy honour i'the Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings LOVELL madam Menelaus Murd Nest Nestor night noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace Pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Rich Richmond royal SCENE Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan Stanley sweet sword tell tent thee Ther there's Thersites thou art to-morrow Troilus Trojan Troy trumpet Ulyss uncle unto
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 4 - 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 136 - 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 used in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, — Guilty ! guilty ! I shall despair.
Seite 231 - 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 231 - 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 240 - He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that lov'd him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely...
Seite 345 - That no man is the lord of any thing, (Though in and of him there be much consisting,) Till he communicate his parts to others : Nor doth he of himself know them for aught Till he behold them form'd in the applause Where they are extended ; which, like an arch, reverberates The voice again ; or like a gate of steel Fronting the sun, receives and renders back His figure and his heat.
Seite 369 - Fie, fie upon her! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Seite 231 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : And thus far hear me, Cromwell...
Seite 33 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, ' Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Seite 34 - Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; Who cried aloud, ' What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...