Historical plays: King Henry VI, pt. I-III. King Richard III. King Henry VIIIJ. and P. Knapton, 1745 |
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... felf , moft part of all this night Within her quarter and mine own precinct I was employ'd in paffing to and fro , About relieving of the centinels . Then how or which way fhould they first break in ? Pucel . Question , my Lord , no ...
... felf , moft part of all this night Within her quarter and mine own precinct I was employ'd in paffing to and fro , About relieving of the centinels . Then how or which way fhould they first break in ? Pucel . Question , my Lord , no ...
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... felf Will fee his burial better than his life . Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer , Choak'd with th ' ambition of a meaner fort . a And for those wrongs , those bitter injuries Which Somerfet hath offer'd to my house , I doubt not ...
... felf Will fee his burial better than his life . Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer , Choak'd with th ' ambition of a meaner fort . a And for those wrongs , those bitter injuries Which Somerfet hath offer'd to my house , I doubt not ...
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... felf , but keep my wonted calling ? And for diffention , who preferreth peace More than I do ? except I be provok'd . No , my good Lords , it is not that offends , It is not that which hath incens'd the Duke : It is because no one ...
... felf , but keep my wonted calling ? And for diffention , who preferreth peace More than I do ? except I be provok'd . No , my good Lords , it is not that offends , It is not that which hath incens'd the Duke : It is because no one ...
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... felf . Tal . Undaunted fpirit in a dying breast ! Then be it fo : heav'ns keep old Bedford fafe ! And now no more ado , brave Burgundy , But gather we our forces out of hand , And fet upon our boafting enemy . [ Exeunt . An alarm ...
... felf . Tal . Undaunted fpirit in a dying breast ! Then be it fo : heav'ns keep old Bedford fafe ! And now no more ado , brave Burgundy , But gather we our forces out of hand , And fet upon our boafting enemy . [ Exeunt . An alarm ...
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... felf haft giv'n her woful breaft . Oh , turn thy edged fword another way , Strike thofe that hurt , and hurt not thofe that help : One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bofom Should grieve thee more than ftreams of common gore ...
... felf haft giv'n her woful breaft . Oh , turn thy edged fword another way , Strike thofe that hurt , and hurt not thofe that help : One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bofom Should grieve thee more than ftreams of common gore ...
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againſt Alarum Anne anſwer Becauſe blood brother Buck Buckingham Cade Cardinal Catesby Cham Clarence Clif Clifford crown curfe death doth Duke of York Earl Edward Elean England Enter King Exeunt Exit fafe faid falfe father fear felf felves fent fhall fhame fhould fight firſt flain foldiers fome forrow foul fpeak France friends ftand ftill fuch fweet fword Glo'fter Glou Gloucefter Grace haft Haftings hath heart heav'n Highneſs himſelf honour houſe Jack Cade King Henry Lady Lord Lord Chamberlain Lord Protector Madam mafter Majefty moft moſt muft muſt noble peace Plantagenet pleaſe pleaſure prefent Prince Pucel Queen reft Reignier Rich Richard Richard Plantagenet SCENE ſelf ſhall Sir Thomas Lovell Somerfet ſpeak ſtate Suffolk Talbot tell thee thefe theſe thine thoſe thou art thouſand unto Warwick whofe
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436 ページ - 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.
225 ページ - 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...
225 ページ - So many hours must I tend my flock; So many hours must I take my rest; So many hours must I contemplate; So many hours must I sport myself; So many days my ewes have been with young; So many weeks ere the poor fools will yean; So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: So minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, Pass'd over to the end they were created, Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave.
281 ページ - I have no brother, I am like no brother; And this word 'love,' which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another, And not in me! I am myself alone.
240 ページ - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
468 ページ - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee; Say, Wolsey, that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of...