The works of Shakspere, revised from the best authorities: with a memoir and essay on his genius by Barry Cornwall: also annotations and remarks by many writers, illustr. with engr. from designs by K. Meadows, Svazek 3 |
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Strana 16
... eye I find A wonder or a wondrous miracle , The shadow of myself formed in her eye ; Which , being but the shadow of your son , Becomes a sun , and makes your son a shadow . I do protest I never loved myself Till now infixéd I beheld ...
... eye I find A wonder or a wondrous miracle , The shadow of myself formed in her eye ; Which , being but the shadow of your son , Becomes a sun , and makes your son a shadow . I do protest I never loved myself Till now infixéd I beheld ...
Strana 23
... eyes , And strain their cheeks to idle merriment , A passion hateful to my purposes ) ; Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes , Hear me without thine ears , and make reply Without a tongue , using conceit alone , Without eyes ...
... eyes , And strain their cheeks to idle merriment , A passion hateful to my purposes ) ; Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes , Hear me without thine ears , and make reply Without a tongue , using conceit alone , Without eyes ...
Strana 26
... eyes , in tender womanish tears.- Can you not read it ; is it not fair writ ? Arth . Too fairly , Hubert , for so foul effect ! Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? Hub . Young boy , I must . Arth . Hub . And will you ? And ...
... eyes , in tender womanish tears.- Can you not read it ; is it not fair writ ? Arth . Too fairly , Hubert , for so foul effect ! Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? Hub . Young boy , I must . Arth . Hub . And will you ? And ...
Strana 27
... eyes ? These eyes , that never did nor never shall So much as frown on you ? Hub . I have sworn to do it ; And with hot irons must I burn them out . Arth . Ah , none but in this iron age would do it ! The iron of itself , though heat ...
... eyes ? These eyes , that never did nor never shall So much as frown on you ? Hub . I have sworn to do it ; And with hot irons must I burn them out . Arth . Ah , none but in this iron age would do it ! The iron of itself , though heat ...
Strana 28
... eyes . Let me not hold my tongue ; let me not , Hubert ! Or Hubert , if you will , cut out my tongue , So I may keep mine eyes : O spare mine eyes ; Though to no use but still to look on you ! - Lo , by my troth , the instrument is cold ...
... eyes . Let me not hold my tongue ; let me not , Hubert ! Or Hubert , if you will , cut out my tongue , So I may keep mine eyes : O spare mine eyes ; Though to no use but still to look on you ! - Lo , by my troth , the instrument is cold ...
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Alarums arms art thou Bardolph bear blood Boling breath brother Buck Buckingham Cade canst Clarence cousin crown dead death dost doth Duch Duke Duke of York Earl Edward Eliz England Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear foul France friends Gent gentle give Gloster Goths grace grief hand hath head hear heart heaven Holinshed honour house of York Jack Cade KING HENRY lady live look lord Lord Hastings lord of Westmorland madam majesty ne'er never night noble Northumberland peace Pericles Pist Poins poor pray prince Queen Reignier Rich Richard RICHARD PLANTAGENET SCENE shame shew Sir John soldiers Somerset sorrow soul speak Suffolk sweet sword Talbot tears tell thee thine thou art thou hast thou shalt thought thyself tongue traitor uncle unto Warwick weep wilt words York
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Strana 223 - This story shall the good man teach his son ; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered ; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's...
Strana 471 - I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, 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 stre-am, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ! I feel my heart new opened. Oh, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Strana 40 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.
Strana 128 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it 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 5 - Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven,...
Strana 197 - The act of order to a peopled kingdom. They have a king and officers of sorts : Where some, like magistrates, correct at home ; Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds...
Strana 197 - Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their emperor; Who, busied in his majesty, surveys The singing masons building roofs of gold, The civil citizens kneading up the honey, The poor mechanic porters crowding in Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,...