The Plays and Poems of William Shakspeare, Band 19F. C. and J. Rivington; T. Egerton; J. Cuthell; Scatcherd and Letterman; Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown; Cadell and Davies ... [and 28 others in London], J. Deighton and sons, Cambridge: Wilson and son, York: and Stirling and Slade, Fairbairn and Anderson, and D. Brown, Edinburgh., 1821 |
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Seite 6
... Mother to KING EDWARD IV . CLARENCE , and GLOSTER . LADY ANNE , Widow of EDWARD PRINCE OF WALES , Son to KING HENRY VI .; afterwards married to the DUKE OF GLOSTER . A young Daughter of CLARENCE . Lords , and other Attendants ; two ...
... Mother to KING EDWARD IV . CLARENCE , and GLOSTER . LADY ANNE , Widow of EDWARD PRINCE OF WALES , Son to KING HENRY VI .; afterwards married to the DUKE OF GLOSTER . A young Daughter of CLARENCE . Lords , and other Attendants ; two ...
Seite 20
... mother at the view And that be heir to his unhappiness + ! If ever he have wife , let her be made More miserable by the death of him , Than I am made by my young lord , and thee ! - Come , now , toward Chertsey with your holy load ...
... mother at the view And that be heir to his unhappiness + ! If ever he have wife , let her be made More miserable by the death of him , Than I am made by my young lord , and thee ! - Come , now , toward Chertsey with your holy load ...
Seite 33
... mother . STEEVENS . 7a beggarly DENIER , ] A denier is the twelfth part of a French sous , and appears to have been the usual request of a beggar . So , in The Cunning Northerne Beggar , bl . I. an an- cient ballad : " For still will I ...
... mother . STEEVENS . 7a beggarly DENIER , ] A denier is the twelfth part of a French sous , and appears to have been the usual request of a beggar . So , in The Cunning Northerne Beggar , bl . I. an an- cient ballad : " For still will I ...
Seite 45
... mother , wife , nor England's queen ! Rivers , and Dorset , you were standers by , - And so wast thou , lord Hastings , when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers ; God , I pray him , That none of you may live your natural age , But by ...
... mother , wife , nor England's queen ! Rivers , and Dorset , you were standers by , - And so wast thou , lord Hastings , when my son Was stabb'd with bloody daggers ; God , I pray him , That none of you may live your natural age , But by ...
Seite 46
... the mark that nature had set upon him to stigmatize his ill conditions . Shakspeare expresses the same thought in The Comedy of Errors : Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb ! Thou loathed 46 ACT I. KING RICHARD III .
... the mark that nature had set upon him to stigmatize his ill conditions . Shakspeare expresses the same thought in The Comedy of Errors : Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb ! Thou loathed 46 ACT I. KING RICHARD III .
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ancient ANNE archbishop blood brother BUCK cardinal Catesby CLAR Clarence crown daughter dead death devil doth DUCH Duke of Buckingham Earl Earl of Richmond Earle Richmond editors ELIZ Elizabeth enemies England Enter Exeunt Exit fair farewell father fear folio friends GENT gentleman Gloster grace hand Hanmer hath haue hear heart heaven Holinshed honour horse JOHNSON KATH King Edward King Henry King Henry VI King Richard King Richard III king's lady leaue Lord Chamberlain Lord Hastings Lovel madam MALONE MASON means mother MURD night noble old copy passage play Polydore Virgil pray Prince quarto Queen Rape of Lucrece RICH Richmond royal scene Shakspeare Shakspeare's Shore Sir Thomas Sir Thomas Hanmer sonne soul speak speech STAN Stanley STEEVENS tell thee THEOBALD thou Tower unto WARBURTON wife Wolsey word York
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 10 - I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, 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...
Seite 425 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 55 - And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy ; And, in my company, my brother Gloster : Who from my cabin tempted me to walk Upon the hatches ; thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster That had befall'n us.
Seite 448 - After my death I wish no other herald,. 'No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
Seite 430 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forc'd me Out of thy honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell...
Seite 56 - I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, With that grim ferryman which poets write of, Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. The first that there did greet my stranger soul, Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick ; Who cried aloud, " What scourge for perjury Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence...
Seite 425 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 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.
Seite 305 - I COME no more to make you laugh : things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.
Seite 441 - 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...
Seite 426 - 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. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye; I feel my heart new open'd: O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes