Mr. William Shakespeare: His Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies, Том 7D. Leach, 1767 |
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againſt Antium Aufidius bear blood brother Buckingham cardinal Catesby Clarence Cominius confcience Coriolanus curfe death doth duke Dukes of NORFOLK Earl of SURREY Edward elſe enemies Enter Exeunt Exit faid fame fear fenators fent fervice fhall fhame fhew fince firſt flain fleep fome forrow foul fpeak friends ftand ftate ftill fuch fword give Glofter grace Haftings hath hear heart heaven highneſs himſelf honour houſe i'the king king's lady Lartius laſt live lord Lord Chamberlain madam mafter Marcius MENENIUS moft moſt mother muft muſt myſelf noble o'the peace perfon pray prince queen reft Richard Rome ſay SCENE ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould Sir Thomas Lovel ſpeak ſtand ſtate tell thee thou tongue unto voices Volcians yourſelf
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Стр. 73 - I have ventured, 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.
Стр. 76 - 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...
Стр. 40 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.
Стр. 4 - 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.
Стр. 76 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition : By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it ? Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Стр. 30 - Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in mine ears What sights of ugly death within mine eyes.
Стр. 73 - 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.
Стр. 73 - 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.
Стр. 3 - 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...
Стр. 30 - All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea. Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept (As 'twere in scorn of eyes,) reflecting gems, That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.