The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare, Volume 16R. C. and J. Rivington, 1821 |
No interior do livro
Resultados 6-10 de 35
Página 160
... lady Elizabeth , sister of Henry Bolingbroke . THEOBALD . 9 - the abbot , ] i . e . the Abbot of Westminster . THEOBALD . 1 Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels . ] Again , in King Richard III .: 2 " Death and destruction ...
... lady Elizabeth , sister of Henry Bolingbroke . THEOBALD . 9 - the abbot , ] i . e . the Abbot of Westminster . THEOBALD . 1 Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels . ] Again , in King Richard III .: 2 " Death and destruction ...
Página 178
... LADY PERCY , Wife to Hotspur , and Sister to Mor- timer . LADY MORTIMER , Daughter to Glendower , and Wife to Mortimer . MRS . QUICKLY , Hostess of a Tavern in Eastcheap . Lords , Officers , Sheriff , Vintner , Chamberlain , Draw- ers ...
... LADY PERCY , Wife to Hotspur , and Sister to Mor- timer . LADY MORTIMER , Daughter to Glendower , and Wife to Mortimer . MRS . QUICKLY , Hostess of a Tavern in Eastcheap . Lords , Officers , Sheriff , Vintner , Chamberlain , Draw- ers ...
Página 196
... Lady : 66 Bring out the cat - hounds . " I'll make you take a tree , whore ; then , with my tiller , ' Bring down your gibship . " BOSWELL . 8 - Lincolnshire bagpipe . ] " Lincolnshire bagpipes " is a proverbial saying . Fuller has not ...
... Lady : 66 Bring out the cat - hounds . " I'll make you take a tree , whore ; then , with my tiller , ' Bring down your gibship . " BOSWELL . 8 - Lincolnshire bagpipe . ] " Lincolnshire bagpipes " is a proverbial saying . Fuller has not ...
Página 211
... lady terms ' He question'd me ; among the rest demanded My prisoners , in your majesty's behalf . I then , all smarting , with my wounds being cold , To be so pester'd with a popinjay " , 66 66 ' tis enough , Having so much fool , to ...
... lady terms ' He question'd me ; among the rest demanded My prisoners , in your majesty's behalf . I then , all smarting , with my wounds being cold , To be so pester'd with a popinjay " , 66 66 ' tis enough , Having so much fool , to ...
Página 213
... Lady Percy expressly calls him her brother Mortimer . And yet when he enters in the third Act , he calls Lady Percy his aunt , which in fact she was , and not his sister . This inconsistence may be ac- counted for as follows . It ...
... Lady Percy expressly calls him her brother Mortimer . And yet when he enters in the third Act , he calls Lady Percy his aunt , which in fact she was , and not his sister . This inconsistence may be ac- counted for as follows . It ...
Outras edições - Ver tudo
The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections ..., Volume 16 William Shakespeare Visualização integral - 1821 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
alludes ancient appears arms Aumerle Bagot Ben Jonson blood BOLING Bolingbroke BOSWELL Bushy called castle cousin crown death dost doth DUCH duke Earl earth edition Enter estridges Exeunt eyes face Falstaff fear folio fool Gadshill Gaunt GLEND Glendower grief hand Harry Harry Percy hath head heart heaven Henry VI Holinshed honour horse Hotspur John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King Henry IV King Richard King Richard III king's LADY lord majesty MALONE MASON means Morris dance Mortimer never night noble Norfolk Northumberland old copies passage peace Percy perhaps play poet POINS Pope Prince prince of Wales quarto Queen RICH Richard II RITSON sack says scene sense Shakspeare Shakspeare's signifies Sir John Oldcastle soul speak speech STEEVENS suppose sweet sword tell thee thou art thou hast tongue uncle Wales WARBURTON word YORK
Passagens conhecidas
Página 147 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...
Página 102 - 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 at his pomp...
Página 387 - 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 in that word, honour ? What is that honour ? Air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it ? He that died o
Página 206 - I know you all, and will awhile uphold The unyoked 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...
Página 111 - God's name, let it go : I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an alms-man's gown, My...
Página 291 - Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied : for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner it wears.
Página 212 - Out of my grief and my impatience Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what, He should, or he should not; for he made me mad To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman Of guns, and drums, and wounds, — God save the mark!— And telling me the sovereign's!
Página 34 - And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol, or a harp ; Or like a cunning instrument cased up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Página 307 - Why, so can I, or so can any man ; But will they come when you do call for them ? Glend.
Página 100 - No matter where. Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.