The Plays of William Shakspeare: King Henry VIII ; Troilus and Cressida ; Timon of Athens ; Coriolanus |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 6
Page 107
O lord archbishop , Thou hast made me now a man ; Dever , before This happy
child , did I get any thing : This oracle of comfort has so pleas ' d me , That , when
I am in heaven , I shall desire To see what this child does , and praise my Maker .
O lord archbishop , Thou hast made me now a man ; Dever , before This happy
child , did I get any thing : This oracle of comfort has so pleas ' d me , That , when
I am in heaven , I shall desire To see what this child does , and praise my Maker .
Page 140
Thou bitch - wolf ' s son , canst thou not hear ? Feel then . Strikes him . Ther . The
plague of Greece upon thee , thou mongrel beef - witted lord ! Ajur . Speak then ,
thou unsalted leaven , speak : I will beat thee into handsomeness . Ther .
Thou bitch - wolf ' s son , canst thou not hear ? Feel then . Strikes him . Ther . The
plague of Greece upon thee , thou mongrel beef - witted lord ! Ajur . Speak then ,
thou unsalted leaven , speak : I will beat thee into handsomeness . Ther .
Page 141
art forth in the incursions , thou strikest as slow as another . Ajax . I say , the
proclamation ,Ther . Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles ; and thou
art as full of envy at his greatness , as Cerberus is at Proserpina ' s beauty , ay ,
that ...
art forth in the incursions , thou strikest as slow as another . Ajax . I say , the
proclamation ,Ther . Thou grumblest and railest every hour on Achilles ; and thou
art as full of envy at his greatness , as Cerberus is at Proserpina ' s beauty , ay ,
that ...
Page 292
And let his very breath , whom thou ' lt observe , Blow off thy cap ; praise his most
vicious strain , And call it excellent : Thou wast told thus ; Thou gav ' st thine ears ,
like tapsters , that bid wel . come , To knaves , and all approachers : ' Tis most ...
And let his very breath , whom thou ' lt observe , Blow off thy cap ; praise his most
vicious strain , And call it excellent : Thou wast told thus ; Thou gav ' st thine ears ,
like tapsters , that bid wel . come , To knaves , and all approachers : ' Tis most ...
Page 295
An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner , thou should ' st have loved thyself better
now . What man didst thou ever know unthrift , that was beloved after his means ?
Tim . Who , without those means thou talkest of , didst thou ever know beloved ?
An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner , thou should ' st have loved thyself better
now . What man didst thou ever know unthrift , that was beloved after his means ?
Tim . Who , without those means thou talkest of , didst thou ever know beloved ?
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Common terms and phrases
Achilles Agam Ajax answer Apem arms bear better blood bring cardinal cause comes Coriolanus Cres death doth Enter Erit Exeunt eyes fair fall fear fight follow fool fortune friends Gent give gods gone grace hand hast hath head hear heart heaven Hect Hector highness hold honour I'll keep king lady leave live look lord Marcius master means meet mind nature never noble o'the once peace poor pray present prince queen Rome SCENE Senators Sero Serv Servant soul speak stand stay strange sweet sword tell thank thee Ther there's thing thou thou art thought Timon tongue Troilus Troy true truth Ulyss voices What's worthy
Popular passages
Page 175 - Take the instant way, For honour travels in a strait so narrow, Where one but goes abreast ; keep, then, the path ; For Emulation hath a thousand sons That one by one pursue ; if you give way, Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by, And leave you hindmost.
Page 283 - Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: This yellow slave Will knit and break religions; bless the accurs'd; Make the hoar leprosy ador'd; place thieves, And give them title, knee, and approbation, With senators on the bench...
Page 72 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Page 132 - Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong, Between whose endless jar justice resides, Should lose their names, and so should justice too. Then...
Page 72 - 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.
Page 106 - 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.
Page 175 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Page 74 - 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!
Page 403 - I loved the maid I married ; never man Sigh'd truer breath ; but that I see thee here, Thou noble thing ! more dances my rapt heart Than when I first my wedded mistress saw Bestride my threshold.
Page 427 - What have you done ? Behold, the heavens do ope, The gods look down, and this unnatural scene They laugh at. O my mother, mother ! O ! You have won a happy victory to Rome ; But, for your son, — believe it, O, believe it, — Most dangerously you have with him prevailed, If not most mortal to him.
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Plays of William Shakspeare: King Henry VIII ; Troilus and Cressida ; Timon of Athens ; Coriolanus Volume 6 of The Plays of William Shakspeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copy Left by the Late George Steevens, with Glossarial Notes, and a Sketch of the Life of Shakspeare, William Shakespeare |
| Author | William Shakespeare |
| Publisher | J. Nichols, 1811 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 25 Feb 2008 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |