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againſt Anne arms bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade Cardinal Clar Clarence Clifford comes crown dead death doth Duke Earl Edward England Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair fall father fear fight firſt follow foul France friends gentle give Grace hand Haſtings hath head hear heart heav'n Henry Highneſs honour hope houſe I'll King King's Lady land leave live look Lord Madam mean mind moſt mother muſt myſelf never noble once peace pleaſe poor pray Prince Queen Rich Richard royal ſay SCENE ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome Somerſet ſon ſoul ſpeak ſtand ſuch Suffolk ſweet tears tell thank thee theſe thing thoſe thou thought true unto Warwick whoſe wife York young
Стр. 359 - 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. 190 - 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. 144 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Стр. 213 - 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.
Стр. 129 - O 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.
Стр. 359 - This is the state of man ; To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day, comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Стр. 362 - 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...
Стр. 359 - 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.