The Plays of William Shakspeare. ....T. Bensley, 1800 |
Kirjan sisältä
Tulokset 1 - 5 kokonaismäärästä 26
Sivu 93
... Clif . What fay ye , countrymen ? will ye And yield to mercy , whilst ' tis offer'd you ; ' Or let a rabble lead you ... Clif . Clif . Is Cade the fon of Henry the fifth & IV . 93 KING HENRY VI .
... Clif . What fay ye , countrymen ? will ye And yield to mercy , whilst ' tis offer'd you ; ' Or let a rabble lead you ... Clif . Clif . Is Cade the fon of Henry the fifth & IV . 93 KING HENRY VI .
Sivu 94
William Shakespeare. Clif . Is Cade the fon of Henry the fifth , That thus you do exclaim - you'll go with him ? Will he conduct you through the heart of France , And make the meaneft of you earls and dukes ? Alas , he hath no home , no ...
William Shakespeare. Clif . Is Cade the fon of Henry the fifth , That thus you do exclaim - you'll go with him ? Will he conduct you through the heart of France , And make the meaneft of you earls and dukes ? Alas , he hath no home , no ...
Sivu 95
... Clif . He's fled , my lord , and all his powers do yield ; And humbly thus with halters on their necks Expect your highness ' doom , of life , or death . K. Hen . Then , heaven , fet ope thy everlasting gates , • To • To entertain my ...
... Clif . He's fled , my lord , and all his powers do yield ; And humbly thus with halters on their necks Expect your highness ' doom , of life , or death . K. Hen . Then , heaven , fet ope thy everlasting gates , • To • To entertain my ...
Sivu 105
... Clif . Health and all happiness to my lord the king ! [ Kneels . • York . I thank thee , Clifford : Say , what news ... Clif " Clif . This is my king , York , Aa v . 105 KING HENRY VI .
... Clif . Health and all happiness to my lord the king ! [ Kneels . • York . I thank thee , Clifford : Say , what news ... Clif " Clif . This is my king , York , Aa v . 105 KING HENRY VI .
Sivu 106
... Clif . He is a traitor ; let him to the Tower , And chop away that factious pate of his . 2. Mar. He is arrested , but will not obey ; His fons , he fays , fhall give their words for him . York . Will you not , fons ? Edw . Ay , noble ...
... Clif . He is a traitor ; let him to the Tower , And chop away that factious pate of his . 2. Mar. He is arrested , but will not obey ; His fons , he fays , fhall give their words for him . York . Will you not , fons ? Edw . Ay , noble ...
Muita painoksia - Näytä kaikki
Yleiset termit ja lausekkeet
Afide againſt Alarum anſwer Baft Becauſe blood breaſt brother Buckingham Burgundy Cade cauſe Char Clar Clarence Clif Clifford crown death doth duke of Burgundy duke of York earl Edward England Engliſh Enter King HENRY Exeunt Exit father fear fhall fight firſt flain foes foldiers fome foul fovereign France ftand fuch fword Glofter grace hath heart heaven Henry's highneſs himſelf honour houſe Humphrey Jack Cade Lancaſter lord lord protector madam mafter majeſty Meffenger muft muſt myſelf ne'er noble peace Plantagenet pleaſe pleaſure preſently prifoner prince protector PUCELLE Queen MARGARET reaſon reft Reignier Richard RICHARD PLANTAGENET Saint Albans Saliſbury ſay SCENE ſee ſhall ſhame ſhe ſhould Somerſet ſpeak ſpirit ſtand ſtate ſtay ſtill ſuch Suffolk ſweet Talbot thee thefe theſe thine thoſe thou art thouſand traitor unto Warwick whofe Whoſe wilt Wincheſter yourſelf
Suositut otteet
Sivu 56 - Content!' to that which grieves my heart, And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, And frame my face to all occasions.
Sivu 38 - 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.
Sivu 37 - This battle fares like to the morning's war, When dying clouds contend with growing light ; What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, Can neither call it perfect day nor night.
Sivu 37 - 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, Thereby to see the minutes how they run, How many make the hour full complete; How many hours bring about the day; How many days will finish up the year; How many years a mortal man may live.