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 4
... Perhaps , however , it might be some translation of Lacey's play , at the end of the first Act of which is , " The showe of the procession . 1. Tipstaffe . 2. Shore's wife in her petticote , having a taper burning in her hande . 3. The ...
... Perhaps , however , it might be some translation of Lacey's play , at the end of the first Act of which is , " The showe of the procession . 1. Tipstaffe . 2. Shore's wife in her petticote , having a taper burning in her hande . 3. The ...
Seite 11
... Perhaps we might read : " And bate the idle pleasures . " JOHNSON . 2 " 2 INDUCTIONS dangerous , ] Preparations for mischief . The induction is preparatory to the action of the play . JOHNSON . Marston has put this line , with little ...
... Perhaps we might read : " And bate the idle pleasures . " JOHNSON . 2 " 2 INDUCTIONS dangerous , ] Preparations for mischief . The induction is preparatory to the action of the play . JOHNSON . Marston has put this line , with little ...
Seite 25
... perhaps . " Your bed - chamber . " STEEVENS . 8 a SLOWER method ; ] As quick was used for spritely , so slower was put for serious . In the next scene Lord Grey desires the Queen to— 66 cheer his grace with quick and merry words ...
... perhaps . " Your bed - chamber . " STEEVENS . 8 a SLOWER method ; ] As quick was used for spritely , so slower was put for serious . In the next scene Lord Grey desires the Queen to— 66 cheer his grace with quick and merry words ...
Seite 40
... Perhaps our au- So , in p . 48 : My labours ; my toils . JOHNSON . 5 OUT , devil ! ] Mr. Lambe observes , in his notes on the an- cient metrical history of The Battle of Floddon Field , that out is an interjection of abhorrence or ...
... Perhaps our au- So , in p . 48 : My labours ; my toils . JOHNSON . 5 OUT , devil ! ] Mr. Lambe observes , in his notes on the an- cient metrical history of The Battle of Floddon Field , that out is an interjection of abhorrence or ...
Seite 53
... perhaps May move your hearts to pity , if you mark him . 1 MURD . Tut , tut , my lord , we will not stand to prate , Talkers are no good doers ; be assur'd , We go to use our hands , and not our tongues . GLO . Your eyes drop mill ...
... perhaps May move your hearts to pity , if you mark him . 1 MURD . Tut , tut , my lord , we will not stand to prate , Talkers are no good doers ; be assur'd , We go to use our hands , and not our tongues . GLO . Your eyes drop mill ...
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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