The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections and Illustrations of Various Commentators. To which are Added NotesT. Longman, 1793 |
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Página 10
... art thou ? ROB . The fon and heir to that fame Faulcon- bridge . K. JOHN . Is that the elder , and art thou the heir ? You came not of one mother then , it seems . BAST . Most certain of one mother , mighty king , That is well known ...
... art thou ? ROB . The fon and heir to that fame Faulcon- bridge . K. JOHN . Is that the elder , and art thou the heir ? You came not of one mother then , it seems . BAST . Most certain of one mother , mighty king , That is well known ...
Página 12
... thou art my fon , I have partly thy mother's word , partly my own opinion ; but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye , - 39 MALONE . 4 With that half - face- ] The old copy - with half that face . But why with half that face ? There ...
... thou art my fon , I have partly thy mother's word , partly my own opinion ; but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye , - 39 MALONE . 4 With that half - face- ] The old copy - with half that face . But why with half that face ? There ...
Página 24
... thou at fir Ro- bert ? He is fir Robert's fon ; and so art thou . BAST . James Gurney , wilt thou give us leave a while ? GUR . Good leave , " good Philip . BAST . Philip ? -fparrow ! ' - James , 8 Colbrand- ] Colbrand was a Danish ...
... thou at fir Ro- bert ? He is fir Robert's fon ; and so art thou . BAST . James Gurney , wilt thou give us leave a while ? GUR . Good leave , " good Philip . BAST . Philip ? -fparrow ! ' - James , 8 Colbrand- ] Colbrand was a Danish ...
Página 27
... Thou art the iffue of my dear offence , Which was so strongly urg'd , past my defence . BAST . Now , by this light ... thou didst not well When I was got , I'll fend his foul to hell . 7 Thou art- ] Old copy - That art . Corrected by Mr ...
... Thou art the iffue of my dear offence , Which was so strongly urg'd , past my defence . BAST . Now , by this light ... thou didst not well When I was got , I'll fend his foul to hell . 7 Thou art- ] Old copy - That art . Corrected by Mr ...
Página 33
... art so far , That thou haft underwrought his lawful king , Cut off the fequence of pofterity , Outfaced infant ftate ... thy brother Geffrey's face ; - Thefe VOL . VIII . D KING JOH N. 33.
... art so far , That thou haft underwrought his lawful king , Cut off the fequence of pofterity , Outfaced infant ftate ... thy brother Geffrey's face ; - Thefe VOL . VIII . D KING JOH N. 33.
Outras edições - Ver todos
The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections ... William Shakespeare Visualização completa - 1793 |
The Plays of William Shakspeare: In Fifteen Volumes. With the Corrections ... William Shakespeare Visualização completa - 1793 |
The Plays of William Shakspeare: With the Corrections and ..., Volume 10 William Shakespeare,George Steevens,Samuel Johnson Visualização completa - 1803 |
Termos e frases comuns
againſt alfo Aumerle Baftard BAST becauſe blood BOLING Bolingbroke called coufin death doft doth Duke Duke of Hereford duke of Norfolk Earl England Engliſh Exeunt expreffion fack faid Falſtaff fame Faulconbridge fays fcene fecond feems fenfe fhall fhould fignifies fince firft firſt folio fome forrow foul fpeak fpeech ftand ftate ftill fubject fuch fuppofe fweet Gaunt grief hath heaven Henry VI himſelf honour itſelf John of Gaunt JOHNSON King Henry King John King Richard KING RICHARD II lady laft loft lord majefty MALONE means Merick Mortimer moſt muft muſt myſelf night obferves old copies old play paffage Percy perfon POINS Pope prefent prince purpoſe quarto Queen Rape of Lucrece reafon RICH ſay Shakspeare ſhall Sir John Sir John Oldcastle ſpeak STEEVENS thee thefe THEOBALD theſe thofe thoſe thou art thouſand ufed uſed WARBURTON whofe word
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Página 462 - The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not ; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.
Página 110 - Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then, have I reason to be fond of grief ? Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do.
Página 124 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Página 359 - By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honour by the locks ; So he that doth redeem her thence might wear Without corrival all her dignities : But out upon this half-faced fellowship ! Wor.
Página 520 - 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 in that word honour? what is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it? he that died o
Página 74 - As for that night, let darkness seize upon it; let it not be joined unto the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months.
Página 504 - Tut, tut ! good enough to toss ; food for powder, food for powder ; they'll fill a pit, as well as better ; tush, man, mortal men, mortal men.
Página 236 - All murder'd : for within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp...
Página 315 - To chase these pagans in those holy fields Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross.
Página 345 - But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...