The Plays of William Shakespeare: With Notes of Various Commentators, Volume 9G. Kearsley [Printed, 1806 |
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Page 13
... — Whilst I a while obsequiously lament The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.— Poor key - cold figure of a holy king ! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster ! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be it KING RICHARD III . 13.
... — Whilst I a while obsequiously lament The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.— Poor key - cold figure of a holy king ! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster ! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood ! Be it KING RICHARD III . 13.
Page 14
... poor Anne , Wife to thy Edward , to thy slaughter'd son , Stabb'd by the self - same hand that made these wounds ! Lo , in these windows , that let forth thy life , I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : — O , cursed be the hand ...
... poor Anne , Wife to thy Edward , to thy slaughter'd son , Stabb'd by the self - same hand that made these wounds ! Lo , in these windows , that let forth thy life , I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes : — O , cursed be the hand ...
Page 22
... poor heart ; Wear both of them , for both of them are thine . And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand , Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever . Anne . What is it ? Glo . That it may please you ...
... poor heart ; Wear both of them , for both of them are thine . And if thy poor devoted servant may But beg one favour at thy gracious hand , Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever . Anne . What is it ? Glo . That it may please you ...
Page 29
... Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick , Ay , and forswore himself , -Which Jesu pardon ! - Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Glo . To fight on Edward's party , for the crown ; And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would ...
... Poor Clarence did forsake his father Warwick , Ay , and forswore himself , -Which Jesu pardon ! - Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Glo . To fight on Edward's party , for the crown ; And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would ...
Page 32
... ripe , And then hurl down their indignation On thee , the troubler of the poor world's peace ! The worm of conscience still be - gnaw thy soul ! Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st , And 32 KING RICHARD III .
... ripe , And then hurl down their indignation On thee , the troubler of the poor world's peace ! The worm of conscience still be - gnaw thy soul ! Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st , And 32 KING RICHARD III .
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Anne Antenor blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Cate Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience Cres Cressida Crom curse death Diomed Dorset doth Duch duke Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grecian Greeks Hast hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour i'the JOHNSON Kath King RICHARD king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovell madam Menelaus Murd Neoptolemus Nest Nestor noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pray Priam prince queen Rich Richm Richmond royal SCENE Shakspeare sir Thomas Sir THOMAS LOVELL sorrow soul speak Stan STEEVENS sweet sword tell tent thee Ther There's Thersites thou art to-morrow Troilus Troilus and Cressida Trojan Troy trumpets Ulyss uncle unto Wolsey York
Popular passages
Page 259 - 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.
Page 349 - Take but degree away, untune that string, And, hark ! what discord follows ; each thing meets In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters Should lift their bosoms higher than the shores, And make a sop of all this solid globe : Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead : Force should be right ; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Page 403 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-siz'd monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done : Perseverance, dear my lord, Keeps honour bright : To have done, is to hang Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail In monumental mockery.
Page 271 - 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...
Page 38 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days ; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Page 348 - Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
Page 173 - 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.
Page 427 - Fie, fie upon her ! There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits look out At every joint and motive of her body.
Page 348 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad: But when the planets, In evil mixture, to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents ! what mutiny ! What raging of the sea ! shaking of earth ! Commotion in the winds ! frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states | Quite from their fixture!
Page 262 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. 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...