The Plays of William Shakespeare: With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators, Volume 11C. and A. Conrad, 1808 |
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Page 18
... father ? The readiest way to make the wench amends , Is to become her husband , and her father : The which will I ; not all so much for love , As for another secret close intent , By marrying her , which I must reach unto . But yet I ...
... father ? The readiest way to make the wench amends , Is to become her husband , and her father : The which will I ; not all so much for love , As for another secret close intent , By marrying her , which I must reach unto . But yet I ...
Page 25
... father , like a child , Told the sad story of my father's death ; And twenty times made pause , to sob , and weep , That all the standers - by had wet their cheeks , Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time , My manly eyes did ...
... father , like a child , Told the sad story of my father's death ; And twenty times made pause , to sob , and weep , That all the standers - by had wet their cheeks , Like trees bedash'd with rain : in that sad time , My manly eyes did ...
Page 28
... father , To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth , tears in her eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With God , her conscience , and these bars against me ; And I no friends to back my suit withal ...
... father , To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth , tears in her eyes , The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; With God , her conscience , and these bars against me ; And I no friends to back my suit withal ...
Page 35
... father Warwick , Ay , and forswore himself , -Which Jesu pardon ! Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Glo . To fight on Edward's party , for the crown : And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would to God , my heart were flint ...
... father Warwick , Ay , and forswore himself , -Which Jesu pardon ! Q. Mar. Which God revenge ! Glo . To fight on Edward's party , for the crown : And , for his meed , poor lord , he is mew'd up : I would to God , my heart were flint ...
Page 37
... father laid on thee , — When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper , And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes ; And then , to dry them , gav'st the duke a clout , Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ; — His ...
... father laid on thee , — When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper , And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes ; And then , to dry them , gav'st the duke a clout , Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland ; — His ...
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ancient Anne archbishop Ben Jonson blood brother Buck Buckingham called cardinal Cates Catesby Cham Clar Clarence conscience crown curse daughter death devil doth Duch duke Earl Earl of Richmond editors Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fear folio friends Gent gentle gentleman give Gloster grace Hanmer hath heart heaven Henry VIII Holinshed holy honour Johnson Kath King Henry King Henry VI King Richard King Richard III king's lady live Lord Chamberlain lord Hastings Lovel madam Malone Mason means mother Murd never night noble Norfolk old copy passage person play Polydore Virgil pray prince quarto queen Rape of Lucrece Ratcliff Rich Richmond Ritson royal scene Shakspeare Sir Thomas Sir Thomas Hanmer soul speak Stan Stanley Steevens tell thee Theobald thou Tower unto Vice Warburton Wolsey word York
Popular passages
Page 293 - 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' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin.
Page 12 - 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 312 - Ipswich and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it ; 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 209 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Page 11 - 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...
Page 47 - Upon the hatches : thence we look'd toward England, And cited up a thousand heavy times, During the wars of York and Lancaster, That had befall'n us.
Page 49 - 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 177 - My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree; Murder, stern murder in the dir'st degree; All several sins, all us'd in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all, 'Guilty, guilty!
Page 298 - 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 297 - O my lord! Must I then, leave you? must I needs forego So good, so noble, and so true a master? Bear witness all that have not hearts of iron, With what a sorrow Cromwell leaves his lord. The king shall have my service; but my prayers For ever and for ever, shall be yours.