Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories, Tragedies, and Poems, Band 4Whittaker, 1858 |
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Seite 470
... Cres- sida " was originally acted in the interval between the first and the second issue of the 4to , as printed by G. Eld for Bonian and Walley in the early part of 1609. It is probable that our great dramatist prepared it for the ...
... Cres- sida " was originally acted in the interval between the first and the second issue of the 4to , as printed by G. Eld for Bonian and Walley in the early part of 1609. It is probable that our great dramatist prepared it for the ...
Seite 484
... Cres . Who were those went by ? Alex . Queen Hecuba , and Helen . 9 this woman's answer SORTS , ] i . e . Befits , agrees , or happens well — one of the then usual senses of the word . See Vol . ii . pp . 82 , 229. Vol . iii . p . 599 ...
... Cres . Who were those went by ? Alex . Queen Hecuba , and Helen . 9 this woman's answer SORTS , ] i . e . Befits , agrees , or happens well — one of the then usual senses of the word . See Vol . ii . pp . 82 , 229. Vol . iii . p . 599 ...
Seite 485
... Cres . What was his cause of anger ? Alex . The noise goes , thus : there is among the Greeks A lord of Trojan blood , nephew to Hector ; They call him , Ajax . Cres . Good ; and what of him ? Alex . They say he is a very man per se3 ...
... Cres . What was his cause of anger ? Alex . The noise goes , thus : there is among the Greeks A lord of Trojan blood , nephew to Hector ; They call him , Ajax . Cres . Good ; and what of him ? Alex . They say he is a very man per se3 ...
Seite 486
... Cres . Who comes here ? Alex . Madam , your uncle , Pandarus . Cres . Hector's a gallant man . Alex . As may be in the world , lady . Pan . What's that ? what's that ? Cres . Good morrow , uncle Pandarus . Pan . Good morrow , cousin ...
... Cres . Who comes here ? Alex . Madam , your uncle , Pandarus . Cres . Hector's a gallant man . Alex . As may be in the world , lady . Pan . What's that ? what's that ? Cres . Good morrow , uncle Pandarus . Pan . Good morrow , cousin ...
Seite 487
... Cres . Excuse me . Pan . He is elder . Cres . Pardon me , pardon me . Pan . Th ' other's not come to't ; you shall tell me another tale , when th ' other's come to't . wit this year . Hector shall not have his Cres . He shall not need ...
... Cres . Excuse me . Pan . He is elder . Cres . Pardon me , pardon me . Pan . Th ' other's not come to't ; you shall tell me another tale , when th ' other's come to't . wit this year . Hector shall not have his Cres . He shall not need ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
4tos Achilles Ajax Aufidius blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade cardinal Catesby Clar Clarence Clif Clifford Cominius Coriolanus corr Cres Cressida crown death Diomed doth Duch duke duke of York edition Edward Eliz emendation Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear folio friends Gent give Gloster grace hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Henry VI honour house of Lancaster Jack Cade King HENRY lady lord Lord Chamberlain madam Malone Marcius means misprint Murd never noble old annotator old copies Pandarus Patroclus peace pray prince queen Rich Richard Rome SCENE Shakespeare Somerset soul speak speech stage-direction stand Steevens Suffolk sweet sword tell thee Ther Thersites thine thou art Troilus Troilus and Cressida Troy True Tragedy Ulyss unto Warwick word York
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 428 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 431 - 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 431 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes ; and thus far hear me, Cromwell : And, — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, — say, I taught thee...
Seite 497 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Seite 429 - 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 428 - 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
Seite 345 - I am a villain. Yet I lie; I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. 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 497 - What plagues, and what portents! what mutiny! What raging of the sea! shaking of earth! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixture ! O, when degree is shak'd, Which is the ladder to all high designs, The enterprise is sick.
Seite 151 - So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely ! Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings, that fear their subjects
Seite 211 - And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me!