THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |
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Seite 158
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up; And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard
of heart, In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell;
mowing like grass Your fresh-fair virgins, and your flowering infants. What is it
then to ...
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up; And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard
of heart, In liberty of bloody hand, shall range With conscience wide as hell;
mowing like grass Your fresh-fair virgins, and your flowering infants. What is it
then to ...
Seite 160
De hand. Et les doigts ? Alice. Les doigts ? ma foy, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me
souviendray. Les doigts ? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres ; ouy, de fingres
. Kath. La main, de hand ; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon ...
De hand. Et les doigts ? Alice. Les doigts ? ma foy, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me
souviendray. Les doigts ? je pense, qu'ils sont appellé de fingres ; ouy, de fingres
. Kath. La main, de hand ; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense, que je suis le bon ...
Seite 387
... let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. * Q. Mar. O, let me
entreat thee, cease ! Give me thy hand, * That I may dew it with my mournful tears
; *Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, *To wash away my woful monuments.
... let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. * Q. Mar. O, let me
entreat thee, cease ! Give me thy hand, * That I may dew it with my mournful tears
; *Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, *To wash away my woful monuments.
Seite 470
Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, * Let me embrace thee in my
weary arms.* I, that did never weep, now melt with woe, * That winter should cut
off our spring-time so. * War. Away, away ! Once more, sweet lords, farewell. *
Geo.
Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, * Let me embrace thee in my
weary arms.* I, that did never weep, now melt with woe, * That winter should cut
off our spring-time so. * War. Away, away ! Once more, sweet lords, farewell. *
Geo.
Seite 498
'Q. Mar. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your ImOtlon.— * Son Edward, she is fair
and virtuous. “Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick; “And, with thy hand,
thy faith irrevocable, * That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine. * Prince. Yes ...
'Q. Mar. Yes, I agree, and thank you for your ImOtlon.— * Son Edward, she is fair
and virtuous. “Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick; “And, with thy hand,
thy faith irrevocable, * That only Warwick's daughter shall be thine. * Prince. Yes ...
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answer appears arms battle bear better blood body bring brother Cade called Clifford comes crown dead death doth duke earl Edward enemy England English Enter Eveunt Exit eyes face fair father fear field fight follow Forces France French friends give Gloster grace hand hast hath head hear heart Heaven hence highness Holinshed honor hope John keep King Henry lady leave live London look lord majesty master means never night noble once peace Pist play poor present prince queen rest Richard SCENE Shakspeare Shal sir John soldiers Somerset soul speak spirit stand stay Suff Suffolk sweet sword Talbot tell thee thine thing thou thought thousand true turn unto Warwick York young
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 52 - Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains In cradle of the rude imperious surge. And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf ning clamours in the slippery clouds, That, with the hurly, death itself awakes...
Seite 152 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Seite 144 - A' made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a' parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers...
Seite 472 - To kings, that fear their subjects' treachery ? O, yes it doth ; a thousand-fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, • His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
Seite 472 - Passed over to the end they were created, * Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. * Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely ! * Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade * To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, * Than doth a rich, embroidered canopy * To kings, that fear, their subjects' treachery ? * O, yes it doth ; a thousand fold it doth.
Seite 262 - Will I upon thy party wear this rose : And here I prophesy ; — This brawl to-day Grown to this faction, in the Temple garden. Shall send, between the red rose and the white, A thousand souls to death and deadly night.
Seite 153 - That those whom you called fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding — which I doubt not — For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot; Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry...
Seite 117 - Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts ; Into a thousand parts divide one man, And make imaginary puissance ; Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them Printing their proud hoofs i...