The dramatic works of William Shakspeare, Band 5Carpenter and Son, 1813 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 80
Seite 6
... Poor Clifford ! how I scorn his worthless threats ! York . Will you , we show our title to the crown ? If not , our swords shall plead it in the field . K. Hen . What title hast thou , traitor , to the crown ? Thy father was , as thou ...
... Poor Clifford ! how I scorn his worthless threats ! York . Will you , we show our title to the crown ? If not , our swords shall plead it in the field . K. Hen . What title hast thou , traitor , to the crown ? Thy father was , as thou ...
Seite 10
... . K. Hen . Poor queen ! how love to me , and to her son , Hath made her break out into terms of rage ! Reveng'd may she be on that hateful duke ; Whose haughty spirit , winged with desire , Will cost 10 ACT 1 . THIRD PART OF.
... . K. Hen . Poor queen ! how love to me , and to her son , Hath made her break out into terms of rage ! Reveng'd may she be on that hateful duke ; Whose haughty spirit , winged with desire , Will cost 10 ACT 1 . THIRD PART OF.
Seite 14
... poor boy ; my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter . Rut . Then let my father's blood open it again ; He is a man , and , Clifford , cope with him . Cliff . Had I thy brethren here , their lives , and ...
... poor boy ; my father's blood Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter . Rut . Then let my father's blood open it again ; He is a man , and , Clifford , cope with him . Cliff . Had I thy brethren here , their lives , and ...
Seite 17
... poor York ! but that I hate thee deadly , I should lament thy miserable state . I pr'ythee , grieve , to make me merry , York : Stamp , rave , and fret , that I may sing and dance . What , hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails ...
... poor York ! but that I hate thee deadly , I should lament thy miserable state . I pr'ythee , grieve , to make me merry , York : Stamp , rave , and fret , that I may sing and dance . What , hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails ...
Seite 18
... poor monarch taught thee to insult ? It needs not , nor it boots thee not , proud queen ; Unless the adage must be verified , That beggars , mounted , run their horse to death . ' Tis beauty , that doth oft make women proud ; But , God ...
... poor monarch taught thee to insult ? It needs not , nor it boots thee not , proud queen ; Unless the adage must be verified , That beggars , mounted , run their horse to death . ' Tis beauty , that doth oft make women proud ; But , God ...
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Achilles Agam Agamemnon Ajax Alcib Alcibiades Anne Apem Apemantus bear blood brother Buck Buckingham Calchas cardinal Catesby Cham Clar Clarence Clifford Cres Cressid crown curse death Diomed dost doth Duch duke duke of York Edward Eliz Enter Exeunt Exit eyes fair farewell father fear Flav fool friends Gent gentle give Gloster grace Grey hand hath hear heart heaven Hect Hector Henry honour house of Lancaster house of York i'the Kath king king's lady live look lord Lord Chamberlain lordship madam Menelaus Murd ne'er never noble Norfolk o'the Pandarus Patr Patroclus peace pity poor pr'ythee pray prince queen Rich Richard Richmond SCENE Serv shalt soul speak Surry sweet sword tell thee Ther There's Thersites thine thou art thou hast thyself Timon Troilus Trojan Troy Ulyss unto Warwick York
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 56 - Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee : Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Seite 53 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Seite 84 - Her own shall bless her: Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow. Good grows with her; In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.
Seite 53 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Seite 48 - O'er-run and trampled on : Then what they do in present, Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours...
Seite 49 - Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness ; And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting : I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Seite 93 - Fool, of thyself speak well : fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Seite 9 - How could communities, Degrees in schools, and brotherhoods in cities, Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, The primogenitive and due of birth, Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, But by degree, stand in authentic place ? Take but degree away, untune that string, And hark, what discord follows ! each thing meets In mere oppugnancy...
Seite 19 - Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! What dreadful noise of water in mine ears What sights of ugly death within mine eyes. Methought, I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; A thousand men, that fishes gnaw'd upon; Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea...
Seite 104 - I COME no more to make you laugh; things now, That bear a weighty and a serious brow, Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, We now present.