The Dramatic Writings of Will. Shakespeare: With Introductory Prefaces to Each Play ; Printed Complete from the Best Editions, Том 5R. Morison Junr., 1798 |
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Страница 5
... once more yield the ghoft . Exe . How were they loft ? what treachery was us'd ? Mel . No treachery ; but want of men , and money . Among the foldiers this is muttered- That here you maintain feveral factions ; And , whilft a field ...
... once more yield the ghoft . Exe . How were they loft ? what treachery was us'd ? Mel . No treachery ; but want of men , and money . Among the foldiers this is muttered- That here you maintain feveral factions ; And , whilft a field ...
Страница 8
... once in the face . Bed . Is Talbot flain ? then I will flay myself , For living idly here , in pomp and ease , Whilft fuch a worthy leader , wanting aid , Unto his daftard foe - men is betray'd . 3 Mef . O no , he lives ; but is took ...
... once in the face . Bed . Is Talbot flain ? then I will flay myself , For living idly here , in pomp and ease , Whilft fuch a worthy leader , wanting aid , Unto his daftard foe - men is betray'd . 3 Mef . O no , he lives ; but is took ...
Страница 13
... once fubdu'd Excellent Pucelle , if thy name be so , Let me thy fervant , and not fovereign be ; ' Tis the French dauphin fueth to thee thus . Pucel . I must not yield to any rites of love , For my profeffion's facred from above : When ...
... once fubdu'd Excellent Pucelle , if thy name be so , Let me thy fervant , and not fovereign be ; ' Tis the French dauphin fueth to thee thus . Pucel . I must not yield to any rites of love , For my profeffion's facred from above : When ...
Страница 14
... once . Dau Was Mahomet infpired with a dove ? Thou with an eagle art infpired then . Helen , the mother of great Constantine , Nor yet faint Philip's daughters , were like thee . Bright ftar of Venus , fall'n down on the earth , How may ...
... once . Dau Was Mahomet infpired with a dove ? Thou with an eagle art infpired then . Helen , the mother of great Constantine , Nor yet faint Philip's daughters , were like thee . Bright ftar of Venus , fall'n down on the earth , How may ...
Страница 19
... Once , in contempt , they would have barter'd me : Which I , difdaining , fcorn'd ; and craved death Rather than I would fo pill'd esteem'd . In fine , redeem'd I was as I defir'd . But , oh ! the treacherous Faftolfe wounds my heart ...
... Once , in contempt , they would have barter'd me : Which I , difdaining , fcorn'd ; and craved death Rather than I would fo pill'd esteem'd . In fine , redeem'd I was as I defir'd . But , oh ! the treacherous Faftolfe wounds my heart ...
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Afide againſt Alarum Alcibiades anfwer Apemantus art thou Baft Becauſe beſt blood brother Burgundy Cade Clarence Clif Clifford crown death doft doth duke of Burgundy duke of York earl Edward Elean England Enter King Exeunt Exit falfe father fear fent fhall fhame fhould fight firſt flain Flav foldiers fome foul fovereign fpeak France friends ftand ftay fuch fure fweet fword Glofter grace hath heart heaven HENRY VI Henry's himſelf honour houfe houſe Humphrey Jack Cade King HENRY lord lord protector mafter majeſty moft moſt muft muſt myſelf ne'er noble pleaſe pleaſure prefent prifoner prince Pucel Queen reft Reignier Richard RICHARD PLANTAGENET Saliſbury SCENE ſhall Somerſet ſpeak ſtand ſtay Suffolk Talbot thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thou art thou fhalt thouſand Timon unto Warwick whofe wilt yourſelf
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Страница 22 - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many years...
Страница 22 - O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.
Страница 22 - Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; For what is in this world but grief and woe? O God! methinks it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point...