The Dramatic Works: Of Shakespeare, in Six Volumes; with Notes by Joseph Rann, ...at the Clarendon Press, M DCC LXXXVI. To be had of Mess. Rivington, London; Mess. Prince and Cooke and C. Selwin Rann, Oxford; and of Mess. Pearson and Rollason, Birmingham, 1789 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 16
Strana 16
... swords ? Paris paffes over . Pan . Swords ? any thing , he cares not : an the devil come to him , it's all one : By god's lid , it does one's heart good : -Yonder comes Paris , yonder comes Paris : look ye yonder , niece ; Is't not a ...
... swords ? Paris paffes over . Pan . Swords ? any thing , he cares not : an the devil come to him , it's all one : By god's lid , it does one's heart good : -Yonder comes Paris , yonder comes Paris : look ye yonder , niece ; Is't not a ...
Strana 32
... swords and bows Directive by the limbs . Ulyff . Give pardon to my speech ; - Therefore ' tis meet , Achilles meet not Hector . Let us , like merchants , fhew our fouleft wares , And think , perchance , they'll fell ; if not , The ...
... swords and bows Directive by the limbs . Ulyff . Give pardon to my speech ; - Therefore ' tis meet , Achilles meet not Hector . Let us , like merchants , fhew our fouleft wares , And think , perchance , they'll fell ; if not , The ...
Strana 38
... sword was drawn about this queftion , Every tithe foul , ' mongst many thousand difmes , Hath been as dear as Helen ; I mean , of ours : If we have loft fo many tenths of ours , To guard a thing not ours ; not worth to us , " be firuck ...
... sword was drawn about this queftion , Every tithe foul , ' mongst many thousand difmes , Hath been as dear as Helen ; I mean , of ours : If we have loft fo many tenths of ours , To guard a thing not ours ; not worth to us , " be firuck ...
Strana 80
... sword his fate be not the glory , A thousand complete courfes of the fun ! But , in mine emulous honour , let him die , With every joint a wound ; and that to - morrow ! Ene . We know each other well . Dio . We do ; and long to know ...
... sword his fate be not the glory , A thousand complete courfes of the fun ! But , in mine emulous honour , let him die , With every joint a wound ; and that to - morrow ! Ene . We know each other well . Dio . We do ; and long to know ...
Strana 97
... sword had not impreffure made Of our rank feud : But the juft gods gainfay , That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother , My facred aunt , fhould by my mortal sword Be drain'd ! Let me embrace thee , Ajax : By him that thunders , thou ...
... sword had not impreffure made Of our rank feud : But the juft gods gainfay , That any drop thou borrow'st from thy mother , My facred aunt , fhould by my mortal sword Be drain'd ! Let me embrace thee , Ajax : By him that thunders , thou ...
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Achilles Afide againſt Agamemnon Ajax anſwer arms art thou Bard Bardolph blood Boling Bolingbroke brother Calchas cauſe Clot coufin Cymbeline death Diomed doft doth Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fafe faid fair falfe Falstaff father Faulc Faulconbridge fear fhall fhew fhould fince fir John firſt flain foldiers fome foul fpeak fpirit ftand ftill fuch fweet fword Gaunt Guiderius hand hath hear heart heaven Hector Henry himſelf Hoft honour horſe Iach itſelf Juft king lady lord mafter majeſty moft moſt muft muſt myſelf noble Northumberland Pandarus Patroclus peace Percy Pifanio pleaſe Poft Pofthumus Poins praiſe prefent Priam prince purpoſe Queen reafon Rich ſay SCENE Shal ſhall ſhe ſpeak ſtand ſtate ſtay ſuch tell thee thefe Ther theſe thoſe thou art thouſand tongue Troi Troilus Ulyff Weft whofe whoſe yourſelf
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 319 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Strana 558 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no. Doth he hear it? no. 'Tis insensible, then? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living? no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore I'll none of • it. Honour is a mere scutcheon : and so ends my catechism.
Strana 417 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and...
Strana 327 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Strana 558 - tis no matter; Honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on ? how then ? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound ? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then ? No. What is honour? A word. What is in that word, honour? What is that honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it? He that died o
Strana 22 - Amidst the other : whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander.