The Tragical Historie of Our Late Brother Robert, Earl of EssexHoward publishing Company, 1895 - 104 oldal |
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1 - 5 találat összesen 19 találatból.
10. oldal
... Ireland , Earl Patrick of Tyrone , the thrice villain , Hath by a stratagem most delicate , Cruelly slain our soldiers . The forces That marched forth against him , were by him Compelled to give battle unawares : We had the worst : of ...
... Ireland , Earl Patrick of Tyrone , the thrice villain , Hath by a stratagem most delicate , Cruelly slain our soldiers . The forces That marched forth against him , were by him Compelled to give battle unawares : We had the worst : of ...
11. oldal
... Ireland , Our forces . He should well enough be able , With expert soldiers twenty thousand strong , To scatter , as a flight of birds , the wild , Untamed Irish Kernes , and likewise to Rattle fast away that great swarm of bees . Es ...
... Ireland , Our forces . He should well enough be able , With expert soldiers twenty thousand strong , To scatter , as a flight of birds , the wild , Untamed Irish Kernes , and likewise to Rattle fast away that great swarm of bees . Es ...
21. oldal
... Ireland Will I go on that coast , my blazing star Must like a shining meteor appear ; Then , by the Lord , my vagrant ensign first Upon th ' Irish horizon I'll display , And so to save myself I will away . ( Exeunt . ) Actus Secundus ...
... Ireland Will I go on that coast , my blazing star Must like a shining meteor appear ; Then , by the Lord , my vagrant ensign first Upon th ' Irish horizon I'll display , And so to save myself I will away . ( Exeunt . ) Actus Secundus ...
22. oldal
... Ireland he shall at once be sent , And there enforc'd to make on the wild Irish Rebels a wild chase . He's too affable , Too fair - spoken , and doth use strange sweetness And blandishments of words ; he must away . A brace of draymen ...
... Ireland he shall at once be sent , And there enforc'd to make on the wild Irish Rebels a wild chase . He's too affable , Too fair - spoken , and doth use strange sweetness And blandishments of words ; he must away . A brace of draymen ...
23. oldal
... Ireland , my lord Earl ; The uncivil Kernes of Ireland are in arms , And temper clay with blood of Englishmen . To Ireland will you lead a band of men , Collected choicely , from each county some , And try your hap against the Irishmen ...
... Ireland , my lord Earl ; The uncivil Kernes of Ireland are in arms , And temper clay with blood of Englishmen . To Ireland will you lead a band of men , Collected choicely , from each county some , And try your hap against the Irishmen ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
The Tragical Historie of Our Late Brother Robert, Earl of Essex Orville Ward Owen Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2018 |
The Tragical Historie of Our Late Brother, Robert, Earl of Essex (Classic ... Orville W. Owen Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2015 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Actus Primus Actus Quartus Ann Bacon Bacon's Cipher bear Bishop of Winchester blood brother C. J. My lord Cecil Cipher comes court crown dead dear death dost doth Earl of Essex Earl of Lincoln earth England Enter Essex Enter Lord Enter QUEEN Essex House Exeunt Exit Essex eyes farewell fear fool Fotheringay Castle foul Francis Bacon give gracious grave hand hath hear heart heaven hell honour Ireland Irish Jailor justice knave kneel Lady Essex Leicester Lieut look Lord Chamberlain lord Earl Lord High Admiral Madam majesty Mary Queen mercy Messenger Navarre noble ORVILLE W Palace peace play pray Queen Elizabeth Queen of Scots rage Robert Scene shalt sleep soldiers soul speak stand sweet sword tears tell thee thine thou art tongue Tower Tragedy traitor treason unto the Queen villain warrant would'st
Népszerű szakaszok
67. oldal - No matter where; of comfort no man speak. Let's talk of graves, of worms and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
8. oldal - My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, So flew'd, so sanded ; and their heads are hung With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; Crook-knee'd, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; Slow in pursuit, but match'd in mouth like bells, Each under each. A cry more tuneable Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly : Judge when you hear.
4. oldal - But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of?
91. oldal - The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre, Observe degree, priority, and place, Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, Office, and custom, in all line of order...
78. oldal - tis too late. Lucio. You are too cold. [To Isabella. Isab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word, May call it back again: Well believe this, No ceremony that to great ones 'longs, Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword, The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe, Become them with one half so good a grace, As mercy does.
91. oldal - 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 fixture...
91. oldal - And therefore is the glorious planet Sol In noble eminence enthron'd and spher'd Amidst the other ; whose med'cinable eye Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, And posts, like the commandment of a king, Sans check, to good and bad...
3. oldal - tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...
73. oldal - : But then I sigh, and, with a piece of scripture, Tell them, that God bids us do good for evil : And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stol'n forth of holy writ, And seem a saint, when most I play the devil.
92. oldal - Strength should be lord of imbecility, And the rude son should strike his father dead ; 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...