The works of William Shakespeare, the text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions, with notes [&c.] by J.P. Collier. [With] Notes and emendations to the text of Shakespeare's plays, Svazek 4 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 100
Strana 10
... hath heaven lent us here ! Eli . He hath a trick of Coeur - de - lion's face ; The accent of his tongue affecteth him . Do you not read some tokens of my son In the large composition of this man ? K. John . Mine eye hath well examined ...
... hath heaven lent us here ! Eli . He hath a trick of Coeur - de - lion's face ; The accent of his tongue affecteth him . Do you not read some tokens of my son In the large composition of this man ? K. John . Mine eye hath well examined ...
Strana 19
... Hath put himself in arms : the adverse winds , Whose leisure I have stay'd , have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I. His marches are expedient to this town ; His forces strong , his soldiers confident . With him along ...
... Hath put himself in arms : the adverse winds , Whose leisure I have stay'd , have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I. His marches are expedient to this town ; His forces strong , his soldiers confident . With him along ...
Strana 24
... hath made her sin and her , the plague On this removed issue , plagu'd for her , And with her plague her sin : his injury Her injury the beadle to her sin , All punish'd in the person of this child , And all for her , a plague upon her1 ...
... hath made her sin and her , the plague On this removed issue , plagu'd for her , And with her plague her sin : his injury Her injury the beadle to her sin , All punish'd in the person of this child , And all for her , a plague upon her1 ...
Strana 28
... hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband grovelling lies , Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth , And victory , with little loss , doth play ...
... hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother , Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground : Many a widow's husband grovelling lies , Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth , And victory , with little loss , doth play ...
Strana 29
... hath bought blood , and blows have answer'd blows ; Strength match'd with strength , and power confronted power : Both are alike ; and both alike we like . One must prove greatest : while they weigh so even , We hold our town for ...
... hath bought blood , and blows have answer'd blows ; Strength match'd with strength , and power confronted power : Both are alike ; and both alike we like . One must prove greatest : while they weigh so even , We hold our town for ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast blood Boling Bolingbroke brother cousin crown death dost doth duke earl England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair faith Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear France French friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harfleur Harry Harry Percy hath hear heart heaven Henry Henry IV honour horse Host King John King Richard Lady liege look lord Love's Labour's Lost majesty Malone master misprint never night noble Northumberland old copies old King John peace Percy Pist Pistol play Poins pray prince prince of Wales printed quarto editions Rich Richard II SCENE Shakespeare Shal sir John Sir John Falstaff Sir John Oldcastle soldiers soul speak stand Steevens sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle unto Westmoreland word York Zounds
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 58 - 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.
Strana 394 - ning clamour in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes? Canst thou, O partial sleep ! give thy repose To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude; And in the calmest and most stillest night, With all appliances and means to boot, Deny it to a king?
Strana 236 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Eant POINS. P. Hen. I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
Strana 167 - All murder'd: for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king 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 501 - Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage ; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect ; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon ; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as doth a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Strana 560 - Like to the senators of th' antique Rome, With the plebeians swarming at their heels, Go forth, and fetch their conquering Caesar in : As, by a lower but by loving likelihood, Were now the general of our gracious empress (As in good time he may) from Ireland coming, Bringing rebellion broached on his sword, How many would the peaceful city quit, To welcome him ! much more, and much more cause, Did they this Harry.
Strana 331 - Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound; But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough.
Strana 64 - For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! Nay, hear me, Hubert: drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly. Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
Strana 132 - 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 summer's heat...
Strana 167 - For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings : How some have been depos'd; some slain in war; Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd; Some poison'd by their wives; some sleeping kill'd; All...