The Works of Shakespeare, Band 9J. M. Dent & Company, 1907 |
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... Sorrow concealed , like an oven stopp'd , Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is . Fair Philomel , why she but lost her tongue , And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind : But , lovely niece , that mean is cut from thee ; A craftier ...
... Sorrow concealed , like an oven stopp'd , Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is . Fair Philomel , why she but lost her tongue , And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind : But , lovely niece , that mean is cut from thee ; A craftier ...
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... sorrows to a stone . Tit . Ah , Lucius , for thy brothers let me plead . Grave tribunes , once more I entreat of you , - Luc . My gracious lord , no tribune hears you speak . Tit . Why , ' tis no matter , man : if they did hear , They ...
... sorrows to a stone . Tit . Ah , Lucius , for thy brothers let me plead . Grave tribunes , once more I entreat of you , - Luc . My gracious lord , no tribune hears you speak . Tit . Why , ' tis no matter , man : if they did hear , They ...
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... sorrow to thine age . Tit . Will it consume me ? let me see it then . Marc . This was thy daughter . Tit . Why , Marcus , so she is . Luc . Ay me , this object kills me ! Tit . Faint - hearted boy , arise , and look upon her . Speak ...
... sorrow to thine age . Tit . Will it consume me ? let me see it then . Marc . This was thy daughter . Tit . Why , Marcus , so she is . Luc . Ay me , this object kills me ! Tit . Faint - hearted boy , arise , and look upon her . Speak ...
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... sorrow that their sister makes . Gentle Lavinia , let me kiss thy lips ; Or make some sign how I may do thee ease : Shall thy good uncle , and thy brother Lucius , And thou , and I , sit round about some fountain , Looking all downwards ...
... sorrow that their sister makes . Gentle Lavinia , let me kiss thy lips ; Or make some sign how I may do thee ease : Shall thy good uncle , and thy brother Lucius , And thou , and I , sit round about some fountain , Looking all downwards ...
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... sorrow deep , having no bottom ? Then be my passions bottomless with them . Marc . But yet let reason govern thy lament . Tit . If there were reason for these miseries , 220 Then into limits could I bind my woes : When heaven doth weep ...
... sorrow deep , having no bottom ? Then be my passions bottomless with them . Marc . But yet let reason govern thy lament . Tit . If there were reason for these miseries , 220 Then into limits could I bind my woes : When heaven doth weep ...
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