Bothwell: a TragedyChatto and Windus, 1874 - 532 páginas |
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Palavras e frases frequentes
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE Arbroath Argyle Arthur Erskine ARTHUR O'SHAUGHNESSY bear betimes Bishop of Ross blood bonds born Bothwell breath Caithness cast cause cloth extra counsel Craigmillar crown Darnley dead death deed earth Exeunt eyes face fair lord faith fast fear fight fire friends George Douglas give God's grace hand hate hath head hear heart heaven Herries hold Holyrood honour hope hour John Knox keep king land leave light lips live look lord Lord Bothwell love's Madam Maitland man's Mary Beaton Melville men's mind Morton mouth Murray night Ochiltree Ormiston peace peril pluck pray Queen Rizzio Robert Stuart Ruthven sake Scotland Seyton shame sick sight slay sleep soul spake speak spirit stand strange strike sure swear sweet sword thing thou thought tongue traitors trust wherein witness word wrath
Passagens conhecidas
Página 239 - O that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest — Ps.
Página 69 - Oh, fair ladies, how pleasant were this life of yours if it should ever abide, and then in the end that we might pass to heaven with all this gay gear. But fie upon that knave Death, that will come whether we will or not; and when he has laid on his arrest, the foul worms will be busy with this flesh, be it never so fair and so tender; and the silly soul, I fear, shall be so feeble that it can neither carry with it gold, garnishing, targatting, pearl, nor precious stones.
Página 239 - For then I could have borne it ; but it was Even thou, mine own familiar friend, with whom I took sweet counsel ; in the house of God We walked as friends.
Página 69 - ... began he to force talking of the ladies who were there sitting, in all their gorgeous apparel, which espied, he merrily said, ' Oh, fair ladies, how pleasant were this life of yours if it should ever abide, and then in the end that we might pass to heaven with all this gay gear. But fie upon that knave Death, that will come whether we will or not ; and when he has laid on...
Página 443 - Queen. Ay, we were fools, we Maries twain, and thought To be into the summer back again And see the broom blow in the golden world, The gentle broom on hill. For all men's talk And all things come and gone yet, yet I find I am not tired of that I see not here, The sun, and the large air, and the sweet earth, And the hours that hum like fire-flies on the hills As they burn out and die, and the bowed heaven, And the small clouds that swim and swoon i' the sun, And the small flowers.