Shakespeare's History of King Henry the EighthHarper & brothers, 1872 - 210 من الصفحات |
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Anna Bullen Anne Archbishop banquet bear behold bevy bishop bless Buckingham Campeius Canterbury Capucius cardinal's Cavendish chamber Chancellor cloth Collars of SS Collier's conscience corrector counsel court Cranmer Cromwell crown dare del Pentecost desire Duke of Norfolk Duke of Suffolk Earl of Surrey ellipsis England English Enter Exeunt favour folio reading follows Gentleman give gold grace Griffith Hall hath hear heart heaven Henry VIII highness Holinshed Holinshed says honour Johnson Katherine's King Henry king's lady lord cardinal lord chamberlain Lord Sands madam malice master mean Merchant of Venice misprint monk never night noble pity play pleasure pray prince Queen Katherine royal scene Shakespeare Sir Henry Guilford Sir Thomas Lovell soul speak Steevens Temp thee thou truth unto Viscount Rochford Walter de Grey Wolsey Wolsey's woman word York-place
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 103 - 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 ; th(?n if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
الصفحة 125 - He was a scholar, and a ripe, and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: Lofty, and sour, to them that lov'd him not; But, to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely: Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he rais'd in you, Ipswich, and Oxford!
الصفحة 100 - O, father abbot, An old man, broken with the storms of state, Is come to lay his weary bones among ye ; Give him a little earth for charity...
الصفحة 141 - Well, well, Master Kingston," quoth he, "I see the matter against me how it is framed; but if I had served God as diligently as I have done the king, he would not have given me over in my grey hairs.
الصفحة 102 - Long in his highness' favour, and do justice For truth's sake and his conscience; that his bones, When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, May have a tomb of orphans
الصفحة 90 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
الصفحة 110 - So went to bed : where eagerly his sickness Pursu'd him still; and, three nights after this, About the hour of eight, (which he himself Foretold, should be his last,) full of repentance Continual meditations, tears, and sorrows, He gave his honours to the world again, His blessed part to heaven, and slept in peace.
الصفحة 9 - King Henry making a mask at the Cardinal Wolsey's house, and certain cannons being shot off at his entry, some of the paper, or other stuff wherewith one of them was stopped, did light on the thatch, where, being thought at first but an idle smoke, and their eyes being more attentive to the show, it kindled inwardly, and ran round like a train, consuming within less than an hour the whole house to the very ground.
الصفحة 113 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forc'd 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...
الصفحة 93 - And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, — say, I taught thee , Say, Wolsey, — that once trod the ways of glory, And sounded all the depths and shoals of honour, — Found thee a way, out of his wrack, to rise in ; A sure and safe one, though thy master miss'd it. Mark but my fall, and that that ruin'd me. Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition ; By that sin fell the angels ; how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?