Shakespeare's Stories of the English KingsG.G. Harrap, 1912 - 284 pages |
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Page 9
... within your walls ! " 68 96 108 140 190 206 216 234 248 256 278 " Read o'er this ! " " After my death I wish no herald , But such an honest chronicler as Griffith 01 282 King Cymbeline " ' Tis slander ; Whose edge is ix PAGE.
... within your walls ! " 68 96 108 140 190 206 216 234 248 256 278 " Read o'er this ! " " After my death I wish no herald , But such an honest chronicler as Griffith 01 282 King Cymbeline " ' Tis slander ; Whose edge is ix PAGE.
Page 16
... death if he disobeyed . He denounced his daughter as a disloyal thing , a vile creature , past all grace and all obedience , a mad woman who would disgrace the throne and make it a seat for baseness . His anger shook him with the force ...
... death if he disobeyed . He denounced his daughter as a disloyal thing , a vile creature , past all grace and all obedience , a mad woman who would disgrace the throne and make it a seat for baseness . His anger shook him with the force ...
Page 17
... death upon her kingly husband . She had a physician named Cornelius , a quiet man very skilful in the compounding of medicines , drugs and poisons . She thought him to be more simple than he really was , and while trying to deceive was ...
... death upon her kingly husband . She had a physician named Cornelius , a quiet man very skilful in the compounding of medicines , drugs and poisons . She thought him to be more simple than he really was , and while trying to deceive was ...
Page 18
... death , slow but deadly . " He knew even while he was speaking that the poison in the box was not deadly , but that it would stupefy the senses for a time and produce every appearance of death until the power of the drug had passed away ...
... death , slow but deadly . " He knew even while he was speaking that the poison in the box was not deadly , but that it would stupefy the senses for a time and produce every appearance of death until the power of the drug had passed away ...
Page 19
... death : I do not know What is more cordial : -nay , I pr'ythee , take it ; It is an earnest of a further good That I mean to thee . Tell thy mistress how The case stands with her ; do't as from thyself . Think what a chance thou ...
... death : I do not know What is more cordial : -nay , I pr'ythee , take it ; It is an earnest of a further good That I mean to thee . Tell thy mistress how The case stands with her ; do't as from thyself . Think what a chance thou ...
Other editions - View all
SHAKESPEARES STORIES OF THE EN Thomas Thellusson 1808-1901 Carter,Gertrude Demain D. 1934 Hammond No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Archbishop army Arthur Arthur of Brittany Bardolph battle Belarius Bishop blood brother Buckingham Cardinal Castle Clarence Cloten crown Cymbeline dark Dauphin dead death doth Duke of Gloucester Duke of York Earl enemies England English eyes face Falstaff farewell father fear fell Fluellen flung France French Glendower Gloucester grief Guiderius hand Harry Hastings hath head heart heaven Henry Bolingbroke Henry VI honour horse Hotspur House of York Hubert Iachimo Imogen John of Gaunt King Cymbeline King Edward King Henry King John King Richard King's knew knight Lady Lancaster Lancastrians land London look Mortimer murder never nobles Norfolk Northumberland palace Pandulph peace Percy Philip Pisanio Pistol Plantagenet Poins Posthumus Princess prisoner Queen replied Richard Plantagenet Roman Salisbury Sir Richard smile soldiers soon sorrow soul stood Suffolk sword Talbot thee thou thought throne tongue Tower villain Wales Warwick wife Wolsey words Yorkists young
Popular passages
Page 194 - s he that wishes so ? My cousin Westmoreland ? No, my fair cousin : If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss ; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
Page 191 - Not all these, laid in bed majestical, Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave, Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread Never sees horrid night, the child of hell, But, like a lackey, from the rise to set Sweats in the eye of Phoebus and all night Sleeps in Elysium...
Page 178 - Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach The act of order to a peopled Kingdom. They have a King, and Officers of sorts : Where some, like Magistrates, correct at home ; Others, like Merchants, venture trade abroad; Others, like Soldiers, armed in their stings, Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds; Which pillage they with merry march bring home To the tent-royal of their Emperor...
Page 124 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners ; 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...
Page 278 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : And thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, — when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble...
Page 120 - 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 that word. honour ? air. A trim reckoning ! — Who hath it ? he that died o
Page 256 - Give me another horse ! — bind up my wounds ! — Have mercy, Jesu ! — Soft ! I did but dream. — O, coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me ! — The lights burn blue. — It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
Page 105 - God save him ; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce. have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him.
Page 184 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture ; let us swear That you are worth your breeding ; which I doubt not ; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
Page 102 - 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...