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Achilles Agamemnon Ajax Alarum Andronicus Anne art thou bear Blood Brother Buck Buckingham Calchas Cardinal Cham Clar Clarence Clifford Cominius Coriolanus Crown Death Deeds Diomede doth Duke e'er Edward Emperor Exeunt Exit Eyes fair Fair Lords Farewel Father fear Friends gentle give Goths Grace gracious Hand hath hear Heart Heav'n Henry Honour House of Lancaster i'th Lady Lavinia leave live look Lord Lord Chamberlain Lord Hastings Love Lucius Madam Marcus Martins Menelaus Mother never Noble o'th Pandarus Patroclus Peace pity pray Priam Prince Queen Revenge Rich Richard Rome SCENE Sorrow Soul speak stand sweet Sword Tamora Tears tell thee Ther there's Thersites thine thou art thou hast Titus Tongue Tork Tribunes Troi Troilus Trumpets unto Warwick weep Words
第1630页 - I'll have her, but I will not keep her long. What ! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, To take her in her heart's extremest hate ; With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, The bleeding witness of her hatred by ; Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me, And I no friends to back my suit withal, But the plain devil, and dissembling looks, And yet to win her, — all the world to nothing ! Ha!
第1824页 - And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check to good and bad : but when the planets In evil mixture to disorder wander, What plagues, and what portents, what mutiny, What raging of the sea, shaking of earth, Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, horrors, Divert and crack, rend and deracinate The unity and married calm of states Quite from their fixure ! O ! when degree is shak'd, Which is the ladder to all high designs, The enterprise is sick.
第1784页 - After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honour from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith.
第1777页 - 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.
第1783页 - From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one ; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not ; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer...
第1567页 - 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...
第202页 - Volsces ; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me. — Boy ! False hound ! If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, That, like an eagle in a dovecote, I Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli : Alone I did it. — Boy ! Auf.
第1749页 - tis better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content, Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow.