Comedy of errors. Macbeth. King John. King Richard II. King Henry IV., part IJ. Nichols, 1811 |
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Página 302
... Duch . Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur ? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire ? Edward's seven sons , whereof thyself art one , Were as seven phials of his sacred blood , Or seven fair branches springing from one root ...
... Duch . Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur ? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire ? Edward's seven sons , whereof thyself art one , Were as seven phials of his sacred blood , Or seven fair branches springing from one root ...
Página 303
... Duch . Where then , alas ! may I complain myself ? Gaunt . To heaven , the widow's champion and defence . Duch . Why then , I will . Farewell , old Gaunt . Thou go'st to Coventry , there to behold Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray ...
... Duch . Where then , alas ! may I complain myself ? Gaunt . To heaven , the widow's champion and defence . Duch . Why then , I will . Farewell , old Gaunt . Thou go'st to Coventry , there to behold Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray ...
Página 304
... Duch . Yet one word more ; -Grief boundeth where it falls , Not with the empty hollowness , but weight : I take my leave before I have begun ; For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done . Commend me to my brother , Edmund York . Lo , this ...
... Duch . Yet one word more ; -Grief boundeth where it falls , Not with the empty hollowness , but weight : I take my leave before I have begun ; For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done . Commend me to my brother , Edmund York . Lo , this ...
Página 382
... Duch . My lord , you told me , you would tell the rest , When weeping made you break the story off Of our two cousins coming into London . York . Where did I leave ? Duch . At that sad stop , my lord , Where rude misgovern'd hands ...
... Duch . My lord , you told me , you would tell the rest , When weeping made you break the story off Of our two cousins coming into London . York . Where did I leave ? Duch . At that sad stop , my lord , Where rude misgovern'd hands ...
Página 383
... Duch . Here comes my son Aumerle . Aumerle that was ; York . But that is lost , for being Richard's friend , And ... Duch . Welcome , my son : Who are the DD 2 KING RICHARD II . 383 Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he ...
... Duch . Here comes my son Aumerle . Aumerle that was ; York . But that is lost , for being Richard's friend , And ... Duch . Welcome , my son : Who are the DD 2 KING RICHARD II . 383 Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he ...
Términos y frases comunes
Antipholus arms art thou Aumerle Banquo Bast Bishop of Carlisle blood Boling Bolingbroke breath castle cousin crown death devil doth Dromio Duch duke duke of Hereford Earl England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes face fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fleance France friends Gaunt gentle give grace grief hand Harry Percy hath head hear heart heaven Henry honour horse Hubert John of Gaunt JOHNSON King John King Richard Lady land liege live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty means murder never night noble Northumberland peace Percy play Poins pray prince prince of Wales Queen Rich Rosse SCENE Scotland Shakspeare shame sleep soul speak stand STEEVENS sweet sword tell thane thee There's thine thou art thou hast tongue uncle villain wife Witch word York
Pasajes populares
Página 157 - Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake : Eye of newt, and toe of frog, Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. All. Double, double toil and trouble, Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. 3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf : Witches...
Página 106 - It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way : thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.
Página 120 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Página 511 - Wednesday. Doth he feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ? Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? No. Why? Detraction will, not suffer it: — therefore I'll none of it: Honour is a mere scutcheon, and so ends my catechism.
Página 359 - Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. Let's choose executors, and talk of wills; And yet not so, for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Página 101 - This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill ; cannot be good : — If ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth ? I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion...
Página 149 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i'the olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end: but now, they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools: This is more strange Than such a murder is.
Página 511 - tis no matter; honour pricks me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? No. Or an arm? No. Or take away the grief of a wound? No. Honour hath no skill in surgery then? No. What is honour? A word. What is that word honour? Air. A trim reckoning ! Who hath it? He that died o
Página 259 - Or, What good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; But you, at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an' if you will ; If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you ? Hub.
Página 298 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.