The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare: With a Life, Volume 6C & C Whittingham, 1828 |
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Page 4
... thank your grace : Healthful ; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there . Buck . An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber , when Those suns of glory , those two lights of men , Met in the vale of Arde . Nor ...
... thank your grace : Healthful ; and ever since a fresh admirer Of what I saw there . Buck . An untimely ague Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber , when Those suns of glory , those two lights of men , Met in the vale of Arde . Nor ...
Page 11
... Thanks you for this great care : I stood i'the level Of a full charg'd confederacy , and give thanks To you that chok'd ... Thank your majesty . That you would love yourself ; and , in that love , Not unconsider'd leave your honour , nor ...
... Thanks you for this great care : I stood i'the level Of a full charg'd confederacy , and give thanks To you that chok'd ... Thank your majesty . That you would love yourself ; and , in that love , Not unconsider'd leave your honour , nor ...
Page 20
... thank your lordship . - By your leave , sweet ladies : [ Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another Lady . If I chance to talk a little wild , forgive me ; I had it from my father . Anne . Was he mad , sir ? Sands . O , very mad ...
... thank your lordship . - By your leave , sweet ladies : [ Seats himself between ANNE BULLEN and another Lady . If I chance to talk a little wild , forgive me ; I had it from my father . Anne . Was he mad , sir ? Sands . O , very mad ...
Page 21
... thanks , And save me so much talking . Wol . My Lord Sands , I am beholden to you : cheer your neighbours.— Ladies , you are not merry ; -Gentlemen , Whose fault is this ? Sands . The red wine first must rise In their fair cheeks , my ...
... thanks , And save me so much talking . Wol . My Lord Sands , I am beholden to you : cheer your neighbours.— Ladies , you are not merry ; -Gentlemen , Whose fault is this ? Sands . The red wine first must rise In their fair cheeks , my ...
Page 22
... thanks , and pray them take their pleasures . [ Ladies chosen for the dance . The King chooses ANNE BULLEN . K. Hen . The fairest hand I ever touch'd ! O , beauty , Till now I never knew thee . [ Musick . Dance . Wol . My lord , - Cham ...
... thanks , and pray them take their pleasures . [ Ladies chosen for the dance . The King chooses ANNE BULLEN . K. Hen . The fairest hand I ever touch'd ! O , beauty , Till now I never knew thee . [ Musick . Dance . Wol . My lord , - Cham ...
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Common terms and phrases
Achil Æneas Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Antium Apem Apemantus Athens Aufidius bear beseech blood Calchas cardinal Cham Cominius Coriolanus Corioli Cres Cressid Crom Deiphobus Diomed dost doth duke Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair Farewell fear fellow Flav fool friends Gent give gods grace Grecian Greeks hate hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Helen honour Kath king lady Lart LARTIUS look Lord Chamberlain Lord Timon's madam Marcius master MENELAUS MENENIUS musick ne'er Nest never noble Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace poor Pr'ythee pray Priam prince queen Re-enter Rome SCENE Senators Serv Servant Sir Thomas Lovell soul speak stand Suff sweet sword tell thank thee Ther there's Thersites thine thing thou art thou hast Timon tongue Troilus Trojan Troy true Trumpets Ulyss voices Volces What's words worthy
Popular passages
Page 56 - 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 for ever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes
Page 64 - He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer.
Page 58 - 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; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, Found thee a way, out of his wreck, to rise in; A sure and safe one, though thy master...
Page 65 - The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him ; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And, to add greater honours to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God.
Page 56 - 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 103 - 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 58 - tis the king's: my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but serv'd my God with half the zeal I serv'd my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 58 - 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...
Page 349 - O mother, mother! What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! You have won a happy victory to Rome; But for your son— believe it, O, believe it!— Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, If not most mortal to him.
Page 140 - Take the instant way; For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path; For emulation hath a thousand sons, That one by one pursue: If you give...