The Plays of William Shakspeare. ....T. Bensley, 1800 |
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... Speak foftly ; or the lofs of those great towns Will make him burst his lead , and rise from death . Glo . Is Paris loft ? is Roüen yielded up ? If Henry were recall'd to life again , These news would cause him once more yield the ghost ...
... Speak foftly ; or the lofs of those great towns Will make him burst his lead , and rise from death . Glo . Is Paris loft ? is Roüen yielded up ? If Henry were recall'd to life again , These news would cause him once more yield the ghost ...
Страница 9
... Speak , fhall I call her in ? Believe my words , For they are certain and infallible . Char . Go , call her in : [ Exit Bastard . ] But , first , to try her skill , Reignier , stand thou as Dauphin in my place : Question her proudly ...
... Speak , fhall I call her in ? Believe my words , For they are certain and infallible . Char . Go , call her in : [ Exit Bastard . ] But , first , to try her skill , Reignier , stand thou as Dauphin in my place : Question her proudly ...
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... Speak , Salisbury ; at least , if thou canst speak ; How far'ft thou , mirror of all martial men ? One of thy eyes , and thy cheek's fide ftruck off ! Accurfed tower ! accurfed fatal hand , That hath contriv'd this woful tragedy ! In ...
... Speak , Salisbury ; at least , if thou canst speak ; How far'ft thou , mirror of all martial men ? One of thy eyes , and thy cheek's fide ftruck off ! Accurfed tower ! accurfed fatal hand , That hath contriv'd this woful tragedy ! In ...
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... Speak unto Talbot ; nay , look up to him . Salisbury , cheer thy fpirit with this comfort ; Thou shalt not die , whiles- Hi He beckons with his hand , and fmiles on me ; As who should fay , when I am dead and gone , Remember to avenge ...
... Speak unto Talbot ; nay , look up to him . Salisbury , cheer thy fpirit with this comfort ; Thou shalt not die , whiles- Hi He beckons with his hand , and fmiles on me ; As who should fay , when I am dead and gone , Remember to avenge ...
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... speak with him ? Mef . The virtuous lady , countess of Auvergne , With modesty admiring thy renown , By me entreats , great lord , thou wouldst vouchsafe To vifit her poor caftle where fhe lies ; That she may boaft , fhe hath beheld the ...
... speak with him ? Mef . The virtuous lady , countess of Auvergne , With modesty admiring thy renown , By me entreats , great lord , thou wouldst vouchsafe To vifit her poor caftle where fhe lies ; That she may boaft , fhe hath beheld the ...
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Afide againſt Alarum anſwer Baft Becauſe blood breaſt brother Buckingham Burgundy Cade cauſe Char Clar Clarence Clif Clifford crown death doth duke of Burgundy duke of York earl Edward England Engliſh Enter King HENRY Exeunt Exit father fear fhall fight firſt flain foes foldiers fome foul fovereign France ftand fuch fword Glofter grace hath heart heaven Henry's highneſs himſelf honour houſe Humphrey Jack Cade Lancaſter lord lord protector madam mafter majeſty Meffenger muft muſt myſelf ne'er noble peace Plantagenet pleaſe pleaſure preſently prifoner prince protector PUCELLE Queen MARGARET reaſon reft Reignier Richard RICHARD PLANTAGENET Saint Albans Saliſbury ſay SCENE ſee ſhall ſhame ſhe ſhould Somerſet ſpeak ſpirit ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſuch Suffolk ſweet Talbot thee thefe theſe thine thoſe thou art thouſand traitor unto Warwick whofe Whoſe wilt Wincheſter yourſelf
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Страница 56 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Страница 38 - 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 37 - This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light ; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
Страница 37 - 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.