The Works of Shakespear: The comedy of errors. The winter's tale. The life and death of King John. King Richard II |
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againſt arms bear better blood Boling break breath brother Changes comes dead dear death doth Dromio Duke earth England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes face fair father Faul fear fellow firſt France Gaunt give gone Grace grief hand haſt hath head hear heart heav'n himſelf hold honour hour huſband I'll John keep King lady land leave live look lord maſter mean moſt mother muſt myſelf never night noble once Paul peace Phil poor pray preſent Prince Queen Rich Richard ſay SCENE ſee ſhall ſhame ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſuch ſweet tears tell thee theſe thine thing thoſe thou thou art thought tongue true whoſe wife York young
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Стр. 263 - O, who can hold a fire in his hand, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, By bare imagination of a feast?
Стр. 210 - There's nothing in this world can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man ; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
Стр. 266 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry...
Стр. 292 - To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh which walls about our life Were brass impregnable, and...
Стр. 119 - This is an art Which does mend nature — change it rather; but The art itself is nature.
Стр. 317 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...
Стр. 287 - I weep for joy To stand upon my kingdom once again. Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs : As a long-parted mother with her child Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting, So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth, And do thee favour with my royal hands.