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Anne arms bear better 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 felf fhall fhould fight follow fome forrow foul fpeak France friends ftand fuch gentle give Grace Haft Haftings hand hath head hear heart heav'n Henry honour hope I'll King King's lady land leave live look lord Madam mean mind mother muft muſt never night noble once peace pleaſe poor pray Prince Queen Rich Richard royal SCENE ſhall ſpeak Suffolk tears tell thank thee thefe theſe thine thing thou thought tongue true unto Warwick wife York
Стр. 334 - 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. 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. 364 - 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. 190 - 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. 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. 200 - I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his 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 ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
Стр. 211 - That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days : So full of dismal terror was the time.
Стр. 364 - 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.