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The Plays of William Shakespeare in Ten Volumes: With Corrections ..., Volum 7
Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1778
againſt Anne appears bear believe better blood brother Buck Buckingham called cardinal cauſe common Coriolanus death duke Edward enemies Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall fear firſt friends give grace hand Haſtings hath head hear heart heaven Henry himſelf honour hope JOHNSON king king's lady leave live look lord madam Marcius maſter mean mind moſt mother Murd muſt myſelf nature never noble once peace perſon play pleaſe poor pray preſent prince Queen Rich Richard Rome ſaid ſame ſay ſee ſeems ſenſe Shakeſpeare ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſtate STEEVENS ſtill ſuch tell thee theſe thing thoſe thou thought tongue true unto uſed voices WARBURTON whoſe wife York
Side 273 - 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.
Side 277 - 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 fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Side 155 - Give me another horse! bind up my wounds! Have mercy, Jesu! Soft! I did but dream. O! coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me. The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What! do I fear myself?
Side 288 - And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him Those twins of learning that he rais'd in you, Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue.
Side 275 - Go, get thee from me, Cromwell; I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now , To be thy lord and master: Seek the king; That sun, I pray, may never set!
Side 231 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Side 6 - Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, And that so lamely and unfashionable That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity; And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover. To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.