The Tragedy of King Richard II

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D.C. Heath & Company, 1895 - Počet stran: 212
 

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Strana 54 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
Strana 53 - This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
Strana 50 - O, who can hold a fire in his hand, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? " Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, By bare imagination of a feast ? Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic k summer's heat?
Strana 70 - Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed king; The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord.
Strana 78 - I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My...
Strana 70 - Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen, In murders, and in outrage, bloody here; But when, from under this terrestrial ball, He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines...
Strana 157 - So shalt thou feed on Death, that feeds on men, And Death once dead, there's no more dying then.
Strana 93 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Strana 73 - Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, Allowing him a breath, a little scene, 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 humour'd thus Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle wall, and — farewell king!
Strana 53 - Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. He that no more must say is...

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