The Works of William Shakespeare: The Plays Ed. from the Folio of MDCXXIII, with Various Readings from All the Editions and All the Commentators, Notes, Introductory Remarks, a Historical Sketch of the Text, an Account of the Rise and Progress of the English Drama, a Memoir of the Poet, and an Essay Upon the Genius, Volume 8Little, Brown, 1859 - Andronicus, Titus (Legendary character) |
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Page 11
... soul , thou and thy house shall rue it . West . Plantagenet , of thee , and these thy sons , Thy kinsmen , and thy friends , I'll have more lives , Than drops of blood were in my father's veins . Clif . Urge it no more ; lest that ...
... soul , thou and thy house shall rue it . West . Plantagenet , of thee , and these thy sons , Thy kinsmen , and thy friends , I'll have more lives , Than drops of blood were in my father's veins . Clif . Urge it no more ; lest that ...
Page 22
... soul ; And till I root out their accursed line , And leave not one alive , I live in Hell . Therefore - Rut . O , let me pray before I take my death . To thee I pray : sweet Clifford , pity me ! - Clif . Such pity as my rapier's point ...
... soul ; And till I root out their accursed line , And leave not one alive , I live in Hell . Therefore - Rut . O , let me pray before I take my death . To thee I pray : sweet Clifford , pity me ! - Clif . Such pity as my rapier's point ...
Page 28
... soul to Heaven , my blood upon your heads ! North . Had he been slaughter - man to all my kin , I should not , for my life , but weep with him , To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul . Q. Mar. What ! weeping - ripe , my Lord North ...
... soul to Heaven , my blood upon your heads ! North . Had he been slaughter - man to all my kin , I should not , for my life , but weep with him , To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul . Q. Mar. What ! weeping - ripe , my Lord North ...
Page 29
... soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee . ' [ Dies . Q. Mar. Off with his head , and set it on York gates : So York may overlook the town of York . [ Flourish . Exeunt . ACT II . SCENE I. A Plain near Mortimer's Cross in Here ...
... soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee . ' [ Dies . Q. Mar. Off with his head , and set it on York gates : So York may overlook the town of York . [ Flourish . Exeunt . ACT II . SCENE I. A Plain near Mortimer's Cross in Here ...
Page 31
... soul's palace is become a prison : Ah , would she break from hence , that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest ! For never henceforth shall I joy again , Never , O , never , shall I see more joy ! ] 9 9 ] 9 9 Rich . I ...
... soul's palace is become a prison : Ah , would she break from hence , that this my body Might in the ground be closed up in rest ! For never henceforth shall I joy again , Never , O , never , shall I see more joy ! ] 9 9 ] 9 9 Rich . I ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anne bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Clif Clifford Collier's folio crown death Dorset doth Duch Duke of Norfolk Duke of York Dyce Earl Earl of Surrey Eliz England Enter King Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear friends Gent gentle give Gloster Grace gracious Grey hand hath hear heart Heaven Henry's Holinshed honour House of Lancaster House of York James Blunt Kath King Edward King Henry King's Lady Lancaster leave live Lord Chamberlain Lord Hastings LOVELL Madam Margaret misprint Murd never noble octavo passage peace pity play poor pray Prince quartos Queen Ratcliff Rich Richmond royal SCENE Shakespeare shalt Sir Thomas Sir Thomas Lovell soul speak speech Stan Stanley sweet tell thee thine thou art Tower unto Warwick Wolsey word
Popular passages
Page 114 - And so I was, which plainly signified That I should snarl, and bite, and play the dog. Then, since the heavens have shap'd my body so, Let hell make crook'd my mind to answer it. I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me!
Page 46 - To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? O, yes, it doth ; a thousand fold it doth. And to conclude, — the shepherd's homely curds, His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle, His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, Is far beyond a prince's delicates, His viands sparkling in a golden cup, His body couched in a curious bed, When care, mistrust, and treason wait on him.
Page 65 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Page 168 - 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 142 - 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 ; — Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace...
Page 395 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not...
Page 388 - 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 393 - 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 392 - 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 393 - 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 forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes