The Works of Mr. William Shakespear;: In Six Volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author, Svazek 4 |
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Strana 1551
Oh , Clifford , but bethink thee once again , And in thy thought o'er - run my former time : And if thou canst , for blushing , view this Face , And bite thy Tongue that flanders him with Cowardice , Whore frown hath made thee faint and ...
Oh , Clifford , but bethink thee once again , And in thy thought o'er - run my former time : And if thou canst , for blushing , view this Face , And bite thy Tongue that flanders him with Cowardice , Whore frown hath made thee faint and ...
Strana 1552
Clif . That is my Office , for my Father's fake . Queen . Nay stay , let's here the Orizons he makes : York . She - Wolf of France , But worse than Wolves of France , Whose Whose Tongue more poisons than the Adder's Tooth : How ...
Clif . That is my Office , for my Father's fake . Queen . Nay stay , let's here the Orizons he makes : York . She - Wolf of France , But worse than Wolves of France , Whose Whose Tongue more poisons than the Adder's Tooth : How ...
Strana 1553
Whose Tongue more poisons than the Adder's Tooth : How ill - beseeming is it in thy S x , To triumph like an Amazonian Trull , Upon their Woes , whom Fortune captivates ? But that thy Face is Vizard - like , unchanging , Made impudent ...
Whose Tongue more poisons than the Adder's Tooth : How ill - beseeming is it in thy S x , To triumph like an Amazonian Trull , Upon their Woes , whom Fortune captivates ? But that thy Face is Vizard - like , unchanging , Made impudent ...
Strana 1563
I prithee give no Limits to my Tongue , I am a King , and privileg'd to speak . Clif . My Liege , the Wound that bred this Meeting herę Cannot be cur'd by Words , therefore be still . Rich . Then , Execution , re - unsheath thy Sword ...
I prithee give no Limits to my Tongue , I am a King , and privileg'd to speak . Clif . My Liege , the Wound that bred this Meeting herę Cannot be cur'd by Words , therefore be still . Rich . Then , Execution , re - unsheath thy Sword ...
Strana 1571
Edw . Bring forth that fatal Screech - owl to our House , That nothing sung but Death to us and ours : Now death in all stop his dismal threatning sound , And his ill - boading Tongue no more shall speak . War .
Edw . Bring forth that fatal Screech - owl to our House , That nothing sung but Death to us and ours : Now death in all stop his dismal threatning sound , And his ill - boading Tongue no more shall speak . War .
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