Shakspearian Readings: Selected and Adapted for Young Persons and Others |
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Page 15
... poor beggar raileth on the rich . Well , while I am a beggar I will rail , And say there is no vice but to be rich : And being rich , my virtue then shall be , To say there is no vice but beggary , And break my faith , like kings , upon ...
... poor beggar raileth on the rich . Well , while I am a beggar I will rail , And say there is no vice but to be rich : And being rich , my virtue then shall be , To say there is no vice but beggary , And break my faith , like kings , upon ...
Page 23
... poor child is a prisoner ; And now will canker sorrow eat my bud , And chase the native beauty from his cheek , And he will look as hollow as a ghost ; As dull and meagre as an ague's fit ; And so he ' ll die ; and , rising so again ...
... poor child is a prisoner ; And now will canker sorrow eat my bud , And chase the native beauty from his cheek , And he will look as hollow as a ghost ; As dull and meagre as an ague's fit ; And so he ' ll die ; and , rising so again ...
Page 39
... art come to set mine eye ; The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd ; And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail Are turned to a thread , one little hair : My heart hath one poor string to stay it by KING JOHN . 39.
... art come to set mine eye ; The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd ; And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail Are turned to a thread , one little hair : My heart hath one poor string to stay it by KING JOHN . 39.
Page 40
... poor string to stay it by , Which holds but till thy news be uttered ; And then all this thou seest , is but a clod , A mould of clay in shape of royalty . [ Faulconbridge . ] I burn with haste to see your majesty . The dauphin is ...
... poor string to stay it by , Which holds but till thy news be uttered ; And then all this thou seest , is but a clod , A mould of clay in shape of royalty . [ Faulconbridge . ] I burn with haste to see your majesty . The dauphin is ...
Page 42
... poor Edward in thy looks . Villain , I know thou com'st to murder me . [ Lightborn . ] To murder you ! no , my thrice gracious lord Far is it from my heart to do you harm . The queen hath sent to see how you are us'd ; For she relents ...
... poor Edward in thy looks . Villain , I know thou com'st to murder me . [ Lightborn . ] To murder you ! no , my thrice gracious lord Far is it from my heart to do you harm . The queen hath sent to see how you are us'd ; For she relents ...
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Other editions - View all
Shakspearian Readings: Selected and Adapted for Young Persons and Others ... B. H. Smart No preview available - 2018 |
Shakspearian Readings: Selected and Adapted for Young Persons and Others B. H. Smart No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
Anne Boleyn Antony Bardolph battle bear blood Bolingbroke Brakenbury brother Brutus Buckingham Cade Cæsar cardinal Casca Cassius Catesby Clarence Cleopatra comes Cominius Coriolanus cousin crown dead death didst dost doth duke of York earl Edward Elizabeth England Enobarbus eyes Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fluellen follow France friends gentle give Gloster grace gracious grief hand Harfleur hath hear heart heaven Henry HISTORICAL MEMORANDA hither honour Hotspur Hubert imagine INDICATED BY SCENES Jack Cade Justice king king's lady land liege look lord majesty Marcius Mark Antony mayo'r Menenius Messenger never night noble Norfolk Northumberland Octavius Pandulph pardon pause peace Poins Pompey pray prince queen reign Richard Rome royal SCENES SUPPOSED Shakspeare Shallow Sicinius Sir John soldiers Somerset soul speak Suffolk sword tell thee thou art thou hast thought Titinius traitor uncle unto Volumnia Warwick Westmorland Wolsey young
Popular passages
Page 386 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Page 61 - 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?
Page 387 - Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us. O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
Page 21 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
Page 215 - Pass'd 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 embroider'd canopy To kings, that fear their subjects
Page 384 - Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a place in the commonwealth ; as which of you shall not ? With this I depart ; that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
Page 362 - Caesar carelessly but nod on him. He had a fever when he was in Spain, And when the fit was on him, I did mark How he did shake; 'tis true, this god did shake; His coward lips did from their...
Page 388 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is, But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man That love my friend, and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech To stir men's blood.
Page 153 - I do despise my dream. Make less thy body, hence, and more thy grace ; Leave gormandizing ; know, the grave doth gape For thee thrice wider than for other men.
Page 305 - 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.