The Plays of William Shakespeare : Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens: With a Series of Engravings, from Original Designs of Henry Fuseli, and a Selection of Explanatory and Historical Notes, from the Most Eminent Commentators; a History of the Stage, a Life of Shakespeare, &c. by Alexander Chalmers, Zväzok 5F.C. and J. Rivington, 1805 |
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Strana 8
... head ; But , that I am as well begot , my liege , ( Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me ! ) Compare our faces , and be judge yourself . If old sir Robert did beget us both , And were our father , and this son like him ; - O ...
... head ; But , that I am as well begot , my liege , ( Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me ! ) Compare our faces , and be judge yourself . If old sir Robert did beget us both , And were our father , and this son like him ; - O ...
Strana 27
... head to your lion's hide , And make a monster of you . Aust . Peace ; no more . Bast . O , tremble ; for you hear the lion roar . K. John . Up higher to the plain ; where we'll set forth , In best appointment , all our regiments . Bast ...
... head to your lion's hide , And make a monster of you . Aust . Peace ; no more . Bast . O , tremble ; for you hear the lion roar . K. John . Up higher to the plain ; where we'll set forth , In best appointment , all our regiments . Bast ...
Strana 31
... heads , I like it well ; -France , shall we knit our powers , And lay this Angiers even with the ground ; Then , after , fight who shall be king of it ? Bast . An if thou hast the mettle of a king , - Being wrong'd , as we are , by this ...
... heads , I like it well ; -France , shall we knit our powers , And lay this Angiers even with the ground ; Then , after , fight who shall be king of it ? Bast . An if thou hast the mettle of a king , - Being wrong'd , as we are , by this ...
Strana 37
... head from all indifferency , From all direction , purpose , course , intent : And this same bias , this commodity , This bawd , this broker , this all - changing word , Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France , Hath drawn him from ...
... head from all indifferency , From all direction , purpose , course , intent : And this same bias , this commodity , This bawd , this broker , this all - changing word , Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France , Hath drawn him from ...
Strana 39
... head ? Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum , Like a proud river peering o'er its bounds ? Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words ? Then ...
... head ? Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum , Like a proud river peering o'er its bounds ? Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words ? Then ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
arms art thou Aumerle Bard Bardolph Bast Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Const cousin crown dead death doth Duch duke duke of Hereford earl Eastcheap England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear France friends Gaunt give Glend Glendower grace grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven honour horse Host Hotspur Hubert John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King John King Richard Lady Lancaster land liege look lord majesty master never night noble Northumberland peace Percy Pist play Poins pray prince Prince JOHN prince of Wales Queen Rich SCENE Shakspeare Shal Shallow shame sir John sir John Falstaff soul speak sweet sword tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue true uncle villain Westmoreland wilt word York
Populárne pasáže
Strana 387 - How many thousand of my poorest subjects Are at this hour asleep ! O Sleep, O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down.
Strana 228 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. {Exit 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 163 - And that small model of the barren earth, Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heaven'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 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...
Strana 230 - Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin new reap'd Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home ; He was perfumed like a milliner ; And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon He gave his nose and...
Strana 63 - Or, What good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; But you, at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an' if you will ; If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you ? Hub.
Strana 102 - 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 315 - 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 63 - I knit my handkerchief about your brows, (The best I had ; a princess wrought it me,) And I did never ask it you again ; And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheered up the heavy time ; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief?
Strana 195 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home ; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Strana 315 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o