The plays of William Shakespeare, with the corrections and illustr. of various commentators, to which are added notes by S. Johnson, Volume 5

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Página 241 - Was ever woman in this humour woo'd ? Was ever woman in this humour won ? I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks...
Página 461 - O father abbot, 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...
Página 450 - 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.
Página 228 - 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.
Página 351 - It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What! do I fear myself? there's none else by Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
Página 174 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Página 156 - 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...
Página 450 - And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth...
Página 454 - 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.
Página 453 - 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; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...

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