The Plays of Shakspeare, Svazek 1Hurst, Robinson, and Company, 1819 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 58
Strana 11
... troth ! I do now let loose my opinion , hold it no longer ; this is no fish , but an islander , that hath lately suffered by a thunder - bolt . [ Thunder . ] Alas ! the storm is come again : my best way is to creep under his gaberdine ...
... troth ! I do now let loose my opinion , hold it no longer ; this is no fish , but an islander , that hath lately suffered by a thunder - bolt . [ Thunder . ] Alas ! the storm is come again : my best way is to creep under his gaberdine ...
Strana 51
... troth , you are very well met : by your leave , good mistress . must wait on myself , must I ? You have not The Book of Riddles about you , have you ? Sim . Book of Riddles ! why , did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon ...
... troth , you are very well met : by your leave , good mistress . must wait on myself , must I ? You have not The Book of Riddles about you , have you ? Sim . Book of Riddles ! why , did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon ...
Strana 52
... troth , I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since . Why do your dogs bark so ? be there bears i ' the town ? Anne . I think , there are , sir ; I heard them talked of . Slen . I love the sport well ; but I shall as soon quarrel at it ...
... troth , I cannot abide the smell of hot meat since . Why do your dogs bark so ? be there bears i ' the town ? Anne . I think , there are , sir ; I heard them talked of . Slen . I love the sport well ; but I shall as soon quarrel at it ...
Strana 54
... Troth , sir , all is in his hands above : but notwithstanding , master Fenton , I'll be sworn on a book , she loves you : -Have not your worship a wart above your eye ? Fent . Yes , marry , have I ; what of that ? Quick . Well , thereby ...
... Troth , sir , all is in his hands above : but notwithstanding , master Fenton , I'll be sworn on a book , she loves you : -Have not your worship a wart above your eye ? Fent . Yes , marry , have I ; what of that ? Quick . Well , thereby ...
Strana 58
... Troth , and I have a bag of money here troubles me : if you will help me to bear it , sir John , take all , or half , for easing me of the car- riage . Fal . Sir , I know not how I may deserve to be your porter . Ford . I will tell you ...
... Troth , and I have a bag of money here troubles me : if you will help me to bear it , sir John , take all , or half , for easing me of the car- riage . Fal . Sir , I know not how I may deserve to be your porter . Ford . I will tell you ...
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The Plays of Shakspeare Samuel Johnson,Isaac Reed,George Steevens Náhled není k dispozici. - 2015 |
The Plays of Shakspeare Samuel Johnson,Isaac Reed,George Steevens Náhled není k dispozici. - 2015 |
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Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 255 - With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances ; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose well...
Strana 12 - A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o
Strana 168 - Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be: In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours: I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Strana 88 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O, prepare it ! My part of death, no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O, where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there ! Duke.
Strana 462 - And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas ! poor Richard ! where rides he the while ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious : Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save him...