Shakespere's Works, Volume 7D. Appleton, 1897 |
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Page 133
William Shakespeare. Enter the two Murderers . First Murd . Ho ! who's here ? Brak . What wouldst thou , fellow ? and ... Second Murd . ' Tis better , sir , than to be tedious . Let him see our commission , and talk no more . A paper ...
William Shakespeare. Enter the two Murderers . First Murd . Ho ! who's here ? Brak . What wouldst thou , fellow ? and ... Second Murd . ' Tis better , sir , than to be tedious . Let him see our commission , and talk no more . A paper ...
Page 134
... Murd . Back to the Duke of Gloucester , tell him so . Second Murd . I pray thee , stay a while : I hope my holy humour will change ; ' twas wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty . First Murd . How dost thou feel thyself now ...
... Murd . Back to the Duke of Gloucester , tell him so . Second Murd . I pray thee , stay a while : I hope my holy humour will change ; ' twas wont to hold me but while one would tell twenty . First Murd . How dost thou feel thyself now ...
Page 135
... Second Murd . Spoke like a tall fellow that respects his reputation . Come , shall we to this gear ? First Murd . Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword , and then throw him in the malmsey- butt in the next room . Second ...
... Second Murd . Spoke like a tall fellow that respects his reputation . Come , shall we to this gear ? First Murd . Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy sword , and then throw him in the malmsey- butt in the next room . Second ...
Page 136
... Second Murd . And that same . vengeance doth he hurl on thee , For false forswearing and for murder too : Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster . First Murd . And , like a traitor to the name of ...
... Second Murd . And that same . vengeance doth he hurl on thee , For false forswearing and for murder too : Thou didst receive the sacrament to fight In quarrel of the house of Lancaster . First Murd . And , like a traitor to the name of ...
Page 137
... Second Murd . You are deceiv'd , your brother Gloucester hates you . Clar . O , no ! he loves me , and he holds me dear : Go you to him from me . Both Murd . Ay , so we will . Clar . Tell him , when that our princely father York Bless'd ...
... Second Murd . You are deceiv'd , your brother Gloucester hates you . Clar . O , no ! he loves me , and he holds me dear : Go you to him from me . Both Murd . Ay , so we will . Clar . Tell him , when that our princely father York Bless'd ...
Common terms and phrases
Anne bear blood brother Buck Buckingham cardinal Cates Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Clif Clifford conscience Crom crown curse death Dorset doth Duch Duke of Gloucester Duke of Norfolk Duke of York Earl Earl of SURREY Eliz England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear France friends gentle give Glou Gloucester grace Grey hand hath hear heart heaven Henry's holy honour house of Lancaster house of York Kath King EDWARD King Henry King RICHARD king's Lady leave live Lord Chamberlain Lord Hastings Lovell madam Margaret Montague never noble peace pity Plantagenet poor pray Prince queen Rich Richmond royal SCENE Second Gent Second Murd shalt Sir Thomas Lovell Somerset sorrow soul sovereign speak Stan Stanley sweet tears tell thee thine thou art thou hast tongue Tower unto Warwick weep WOLSEY
Popular passages
Page 105 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Page 305 - O, father abbot, 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 295 - O, how wretched Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin. More pangs and fears than wars or women have ; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Page 132 - With that, methought, a legion of foul fiends Environ'd me, and howled in mine ears Such hideous cries, that with the very noise I trembling wak'd ; and for a season after Could not believe but that I was in hell : Such terrible impression made my dream.
Page 55 - I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. I can add colours to the chameleon, Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, And set the murderous...
Page 295 - 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 291 - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to's holiness. Nay then, farewell! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting : I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Page 296 - I am fall'n indeed. Crom. How does your grace? Wol. Why, well; Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell. I know myself now ; and I feel within me A peace above all earthly dignities, A still and quiet conscience.
Page 218 - What! do I fear myself ? there's none else by: Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here ? No. Yes, I am : Then fly : what! from myself ? Great reason why : Lest I revenge. What! myself upon myself ? Alack ! I love myself. Wherefore ? for any good That I myself have done unto myself ? 0 ! no : alas ! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself.
Page 38 - So many years ere I shall shear the fleece : So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, 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