The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of the Poet, and Notes, Original and Selected..., Volumen 3Phillips, Sampson, 1850 |
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Página 27
... hath drunk , he cracks his gorge , his sides . With violent hefts.3 - I have drunk , and seen the spider . Camillo was his help in this , his pander.- There is a plot against my life , my crown ; All's true that is mistrusted . - That ...
... hath drunk , he cracks his gorge , his sides . With violent hefts.3 - I have drunk , and seen the spider . Camillo was his help in this , his pander.- There is a plot against my life , my crown ; All's true that is mistrusted . - That ...
Página 41
... Hath been beyond account . Leon . They have been absent . ' Tis good speed ; foretells , The great Apollo suddenly will have The truth of this appear . Prepare you , lords ; Summon a session , that we may arraign Our most disloyal lady ...
... Hath been beyond account . Leon . They have been absent . ' Tis good speed ; foretells , The great Apollo suddenly will have The truth of this appear . Prepare you , lords ; Summon a session , that we may arraign Our most disloyal lady ...
Página 51
... hath touched upon The deserts of Bohemia ? Mar. Ay , my lord ; and fear We have landed in ill time ; the skies look grimly , And threaten present blusters . In my conscience , The Heavens with that we have in hand are angry , And frown ...
... hath touched upon The deserts of Bohemia ? Mar. Ay , my lord ; and fear We have landed in ill time ; the skies look grimly , And threaten present blusters . In my conscience , The Heavens with that we have in hand are angry , And frown ...
Página 52
... Hath made thy person for the thrower - out Of my poor babe , according to thine oath , — Places remote enough are in Bohemia : There weep , and leave it crying ; and , for the babe Is counted lost forever , Perdita , I pr'ythee call't ...
... Hath made thy person for the thrower - out Of my poor babe , according to thine oath , — Places remote enough are in Bohemia : There weep , and leave it crying ; and , for the babe Is counted lost forever , Perdita , I pr'ythee call't ...
Página 56
... hath sent for me ; to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay , or I o'erween to think so ; which is another spur to my departure . Pol . As thou lovest me , Camillo , wipe not out the rest of thy services , by leaving me now . The ...
... hath sent for me ; to whose feeling sorrows I might be some allay , or I o'erween to think so ; which is another spur to my departure . Pol . As thou lovest me , Camillo , wipe not out the rest of thy services , by leaving me now . The ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of ..., Volumen 3 William Shakespeare Vista de fragmentos - 1850 |
The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare...: Embracing a Life of the Poet ... John Payne Collier,Samuel Weller Singer,Charles Symmons No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
Antipholus arms art thou Aumerle Autolycus Banquo Bast Bastard bear blood Bohemia Boling Bolingbroke breath brother Camillo castle cousin crown death dost doth Dromio duke duke of Hereford earl England Enter Ephesus Exeunt Exit eyes fair Falstaff father Faulconbridge fear Fleance folio friends Gaunt give grace grief hand Harry Percy hath hear heart Heaven Henry Holinshed honor Hubert John of Gaunt King John King Richard Lady Leon liege live look lord Macb Macbeth Macd Macduff majesty murder never noble Northumberland old copy reads peace Percy play Poins pr'ythee pray prince quarto queen Rich Rosse SCENE Shakspeare shalt shame Shep soul speak stand Steevens sweet tell thane thee There's thine thing thou art thou hast thought tongue villain wife Witch word York
Pasajes populares
Página 465 - I'll sup. Farewell. Poins. Farewell, my lord. [Exit POINS. P. Hen, I know you all, and will a while uphold The unyok'd humour of your idleness : Yet herein will I imitate the sun, Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.
Página 408 - 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 382 - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
Página 185 - 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 Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use...
Página 383 - This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it), Like to a tenement, or pelting farm: England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds: That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Página 408 - 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 190 - The effect, and it. Come to .my woman's breasts, And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers, Wherever in your sightless substances You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ! That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ; Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, To cry, Hold, hold ! Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor ! Enter MACBETH.
Página 190 - Come, come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here ; And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood, Stop up the access and passage to remorse...
Página 216 - Duncan is in his grave ; After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well ; Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, Can touch him further.
Página 189 - 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.