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added answered apartment appeared Archbishop arms bear beautiful Becket become beside bishop blood brow castle cause church closed cold continued countenance danger dare dark death deep door Eleanor England entered exclaimed eyes face fair father fear feelings fell followed foot gave gazed give glance ground Gryme hall hand hath head heard heart Heaven held Henry hold holy huge keep King King Henry knight land leave light lips look matters Maud minstrel moment monk moved never once passed peace possessed present Primate Queen ready remained replied rest Rosamond scarcely seat secret seemed seen sigh silence sound speak spirit spoke steed step stood tears thee thine thou thou art thou hast thoughts throw tone true turned Ugglethred voice watch whole wilt wind
102. oldal - Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, . Have no delight to pass away the time, Unless to spy my shadow in the sun And descant on mine own deformity: And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
179. oldal - Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
91. oldal - LEAR. Let the great gods, That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, Find out their enemies now.
179. oldal - The seasons' difference ; as, the icy fang, And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ; Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile, and say, — This is no flattery : these are counsellors, That feelingly persuade me what I am.
77. oldal - But when we in our viciousness grow hard, — O misery on't! — the wise gods seal our eyes ; In our own filth drop our clear judgments ; make us Adore our errors ; laugh at 's, while we strut To our confusion.
181. oldal - Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?
236. oldal - Most curiously that bower was built Of stone and timber strong, An hundred and fifty doors Did to this bower belong : And they so cunninglye contriv'd With turnings round about, That none but with a clue of thread, Could enter in or out.
266. oldal - In saffron robe, with taper clear, And pomp, and feast, and revelry, With mask, and antique pageantry; Such sights as youthful poets dream On summer eves by haunted stream.
207. oldal - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds, that lowered upon our house, In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.