The Plays and Poems of William Shakespeare: Printed from the Text of J. Payne Collier, with the Life and Portrait of the Poet, Volume 4Tauchnitz, 1843 |
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Page 3
... sweet Warwick , and I will ; For hither we have broken in by force . Stay by me , my lords : this night . : - Norf . We'll all assist you : he , that flies , shall die . York . Thanks , gentle Norfolk . - And , soldiers , stay , and ...
... sweet Warwick , and I will ; For hither we have broken in by force . Stay by me , my lords : this night . : - Norf . We'll all assist you : he , that flies , shall die . York . Thanks , gentle Norfolk . - And , soldiers , stay , and ...
Page 9
... sweet son : - The earl of Warwick , and the duke , enforc'd me . Q. Mar. Enforc'd thee ! art thou king , and wilt be forc'd ? I shame to hear thee speak . Ah , timorous wretch ! Thou hast undone thyself , thy son , and me , And given ...
... sweet son : - The earl of Warwick , and the duke , enforc'd me . Q. Mar. Enforc'd thee ! art thou king , and wilt be forc'd ? I shame to hear thee speak . Ah , timorous wretch ! Thou hast undone thyself , thy son , and me , And given ...
Page 11
... sweet a thing it is to wear a crown , Within whose circuit is Elysium , And all that poets feign of bliss and joy . Why do we linger thus ? I cannot rest , Until the white rose , that I wear , be dyed Even in the lukewarm blood of ...
... sweet a thing it is to wear a crown , Within whose circuit is Elysium , And all that poets feign of bliss and joy . Why do we linger thus ? I cannot rest , Until the white rose , that I wear , be dyed Even in the lukewarm blood of ...
Page 13
... Sweet Clifford ! hear me speak before I die : I am too mean a subject for thy wrath ; Be thou reveng❜d on men , and let me live . Clif . In vain thou speak'st , poor boy : my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words ...
... Sweet Clifford ! hear me speak before I die : I am too mean a subject for thy wrath ; Be thou reveng❜d on men , and let me live . Clif . In vain thou speak'st , poor boy : my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words ...
Page 18
... sweet Rutland's obsequies , And every drop cries vengeance for his death , ' Gainst thee , fell Clifford , and thee , false Frenchwoman . North . Beshrew me , but his passions move me so , That hardly can I check my eyes from tears ...
... sweet Rutland's obsequies , And every drop cries vengeance for his death , ' Gainst thee , fell Clifford , and thee , false Frenchwoman . North . Beshrew me , but his passions move me so , That hardly can I check my eyes from tears ...
Common terms and phrases
Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Andronicus Anne Bassianus blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Clif Clifford Cres Cressid crown death deed Diomed dost doth Duch duke duke of York Edward Eliz emperor Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell father fear friends Gent gentle give Gloster Goths grace gracious Grey hand hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Henry honour house of Lancaster house of York Kath king lady Lavinia live look lord Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lucius Madam Marcus Menelaus Murd noble PANDARUS Patr Patroclus peace pity pray Priam prince queen revenge Rich Richard Rome SCENE shalt sorrow soul speak sweet sword Tamora tears tell thee Ther Thersites thine thou art thou hast Titus tongue Troilus Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Warwick weep York
Popular passages
Page 267 - 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 : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Page 371 - 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 314 - Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, 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...
Page 92 - But I— that am not shap'd for sportive tricks, Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass— I— that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty To strut before a wanton ambling nymph— 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...
Page 193 - 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? O! no: alas! I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself.
Page 314 - Amidst the other, whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, 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 92 - 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, Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover. To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Page 33 - God ! methinks, it were a happy life, To be no better than a homely swain ; To sit upon a hill, as I do now, To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, Thereby to see the minutes how they run' : How many make the hour full complete, How many hours bring about the day, How many days will finish up the year, How many years a mortal man may live. When this is known, then to divide the times : So many hours must I tend my flock ; So many hours must I take my rest ; So many hours must I contemplate...
Page 229 - Heaven has an end in all : Yet, you that hear me, This from a dying man receive as certain: Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels, Be sure you be not loose ; for those you make friends, And give your hearts to, when they once perceive The least rub in your fortunes, fall away Like water from ye, never found again But where they mean to sink ye.
Page 34 - 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