King Lear

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Clarendon Press, 1881 - 200 Seiten

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Seite 95 - We two alone will sing like birds i' the cage; When thou dost ask me blessing, 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...
Seite 14 - This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeit of our own behaviour, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars...
Seite 90 - tis fittest. Cor. How does my royal lord? How fares your majesty? Lear. You do me wrong, to take me out o' the grave. — Thou art a soul in bliss ; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.
Seite 4 - Why have my sisters husbands, if they say, They love you all ? Haply, when I shall wed, That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry Half my love with him, half my care and duty : Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, [To love my father all.] Lear.
Seite 147 - O'erflows the measure : those his goodly eyes, That o'er the files and musters of the war Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn The office and devotion of their view Upon a tawny front : his captain's heart, Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper', And is become the bellows, and the fan, To cool a gipsy's lust.
Seite 71 - Heaven's plagues, Have humbled to all strokes ; that I am wretched, Makes thee the happier. — Heavens, deal so still! Let the superfluous, and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he doth not feel, feel your power quickly; So distribution should undo excess, And each man have enough.
Seite 106 - Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou 'It come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir. Do you see this ? Look on her, look, her lips, Look there, look there ! [Dies.
Seite 73 - Most barbarous, most degenerate! have you madded. Could my good brother suffer you to do it? A man, a prince, by him so benefited...
Seite 84 - Plate sin with gold, And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks ; Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw does pierce it.
Seite xiv - M. William Shak-speare: HIS True Chronicle Historic of the life and death of King LEAR and his three Daughters. With the unfortunate life of Edgar, sonne and heire to the Earle of Gloster, and his sullen and assumed humor of TOM of Bedlam : As it was played before the Kings Maiestie at Whitehall upon S.

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