The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Utgave 9G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Side 141
... tents , even here in Bos- worth field.- My lord of Surrey , why look you so sad ? Sur . My heart is ten times lighter than my looks . K. Rich . My lord of Norfolk , - Nor . Here , most gracious liege . K. Rich KING RICHARD III . 141.
... tents , even here in Bos- worth field.- My lord of Surrey , why look you so sad ? Sur . My heart is ten times lighter than my looks . K. Rich . My lord of Norfolk , - Nor . Here , most gracious liege . K. Rich KING RICHARD III . 141.
Side 142
... tent : Here will I lie to- night ; [ Soldiers begin to set up the king's tent . But where , to - morrow ? -Well , all's one for that.- Who hath descry'd the number of the traitors ? Nor . Six or seven thousand is their utmost power . K ...
... tent : Here will I lie to- night ; [ Soldiers begin to set up the king's tent . But where , to - morrow ? -Well , all's one for that.- Who hath descry'd the number of the traitors ? Nor . Six or seven thousand is their utmost power . K ...
Side 143
... tent , the air is raw and cold . [ They withdraw into the tent . Enter , to his tent , King RICHARD , NORFOLK , RAT- CLIFF , and CATESBY . K. Rich . What is't o'clock ? Cate . It's supper time , my lord ; It's nine o'clock . K. Rich . I ...
... tent , the air is raw and cold . [ They withdraw into the tent . Enter , to his tent , King RICHARD , NORFOLK , RAT- CLIFF , and CATESBY . K. Rich . What is't o'clock ? Cate . It's supper time , my lord ; It's nine o'clock . K. Rich . I ...
Side 144
... tent ? Cate . It is , my liege ; and all things are in readiness . K. Rich . Good Norfolk , hie thee to thy charge ; Use careful watch , choose trusty sentinels . Nor . I go , my lord . K. Rich . Stir with the lark to - morrow , Norfolk ...
... tent ? Cate . It is , my liege ; and all things are in readiness . K. Rich . Good Norfolk , hie thee to thy charge ; Use careful watch , choose trusty sentinels . Nor . I go , my lord . K. Rich . Stir with the lark to - morrow , Norfolk ...
Side 145
... tent And help to arm me .-- Leave me , I say . [ King Richard retires into his tent . Excunt Rat . and Cate . RICHMOND'S tent opens , and discovers him , and his officers , & c . Enter STANLEY . Stan . Fortune and victory sit on thy ...
... tent And help to arm me .-- Leave me , I say . [ King Richard retires into his tent . Excunt Rat . and Cate . RICHMOND'S tent opens , and discovers him , and his officers , & c . Enter STANLEY . Stan . Fortune and victory sit on thy ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience Cres Cressida Crom curse death Diomed Dorset doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour i'the JOHNSON Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Neoptolemus Nest Nestor noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pray Priam prince queen Rich Richm Richmond royal SCENE Shakspeare sir Thomas Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan STEEVENS sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy trumpets Ulyss uncle unto Wolsey York
Populære avsnitt
Side 259 - Farewell ! a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man : to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him . The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a-ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Side 349 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Side 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Side 271 - 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...
Side 38 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Side 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Side 173 - I COME no more to make you laugh ; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow. Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Side 427 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Side 348 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!
Side 262 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of — say, I taught thee...