The Works of Shakespeare: In Eight Volumes : Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected, with Notes, Explanatory, and Critical, Том 5C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. and R. Tonson, B. Dod, G. Woodfall, J. Rivington, R. Baldwin, T. Longman, S. Crowder and Company, W. Johnson, C. Corbet, T. Lownds, and T. Caslon, 1762 |
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Страница 8
... poor King Reignier , whofe large ftile Agrees not with the leannefs of his purfe . Sal . Now , by the death of him who dy'd for all , Thefe counties were the keys of Normandy : But wherefore weeps Warwick my valiant fon ? War . For ...
... poor King Reignier , whofe large ftile Agrees not with the leannefs of his purfe . Sal . Now , by the death of him who dy'd for all , Thefe counties were the keys of Normandy : But wherefore weeps Warwick my valiant fon ? War . For ...
Страница 16
... poor petitioner of our whole Township . Suf . reads . ] Against my Mafier , Thomas Horner , for faying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the Crown . Q. Mar. What ! did the Duke of York fay , he was rightful heir to the Crown ...
... poor petitioner of our whole Township . Suf . reads . ] Against my Mafier , Thomas Horner , for faying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the Crown . Q. Mar. What ! did the Duke of York fay , he was rightful heir to the Crown ...
Страница 24
... poor , as it ftands in all the printed Copies ; but I have formerly , by the Addition of a fingle Letter , both helped the Verfe and the Sentiment . York , feizing the Parties and their Papers , fays , he'll fee the Devil's Writ ; and ...
... poor , as it ftands in all the printed Copies ; but I have formerly , by the Addition of a fingle Letter , both helped the Verfe and the Sentiment . York , feizing the Parties and their Papers , fays , he'll fee the Devil's Writ ; and ...
Страница 28
... Poor Soul ! God's goodness hath been great to thee : Let never day or night unhallowed pafs , But ftill remember what the Lord hath done . Queen . Tell me , good fellow , cam'ft thou here by chance , Or of devotion , to this holy fhrine ...
... Poor Soul ! God's goodness hath been great to thee : Let never day or night unhallowed pafs , But ftill remember what the Lord hath done . Queen . Tell me , good fellow , cam'ft thou here by chance , Or of devotion , to this holy fhrine ...
Страница 32
... poor Queen to France from whence the came , And him to Pomfret ; where , as all you know , Harmless King Richard trait'roufly was murder'd , War . Father , the Duke hath told the truth ; Thus got the houfe of Lancafter the Crown . York ...
... poor Queen to France from whence the came , And him to Pomfret ; where , as all you know , Harmless King Richard trait'roufly was murder'd , War . Father , the Duke hath told the truth ; Thus got the houfe of Lancafter the Crown . York ...
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againſt Anne Becauſe blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade Cardinal caufe Cham Clar Clarence Clif Clifford confcience crown curfe death doth Duke of Norfolk Duke of York Earl Edward Elean elfe England Enter King Exeunt Exit fafe faid falfe father fear fent fhall fhame fhould fight firft flain foldiers fome forrow foul fpeak France friends ftand ftate ftill fuch fure fweet fword Glo'fter Grace gracious haft Haftings hath hear heart heav'n Highnefs himſelf honour houſe Humphry Jack Cade King Henry lady live Lord Lord Chamberlain Madam mafter Majefty moft muft muſt myſelf noble perfon pleaſe pleaſure pray prefent Prince Queen reft Rich Richard Richard Plantagenet SCENE changes ſhall Sir Thomas Lovell Somerfet ſpeak Suffolk tell thee thefe theſe thine thofe thoſe thouſand traitor unto Warwick whofe wife
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Страница 217 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that with the very noise, I trembling wak'd, and, for a season after, Could not believe but that I was in hell; Such terrible impression made my dream.
Страница 370 - Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's ; then if thou...
Страница 134 - To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
Страница 377 - O, father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
Страница 367 - 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 stream, that must for ever hide me.
Страница 368 - Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience. The king has cur'd me, I humbly thank his grace ; and from these shoulders, These ruin'd pillars, out of pity, taken A load would sink a navy, too much honour : O, 'tis a burden, Cromwell, 'tis a burden, Too heavy for a man that hopes for heaven.
Страница 133 - 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 ere I shall shear the fleece: So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
Страница 71 - Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass: and when I am king, as king I will be,— ALL God save your majesty! CADE I thank you, good people: there shall be no money; all shall eat and drink on my score; and I will apparel them all in one livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their lord.
Страница 368 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Страница 133 - 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...