The Works of William Shakespeare: As you like it. The taming of the shrew. All's well that ends well. Twelfth-night. The winter's taleChapman and Hall, 1866 |
Vyhledávání v knize
Výsledky 1-5 z 44
Strana 420
... Leon . Stay your thanks awhile , Sir , that's to - morrow . And pay them when you part . Pol . I'm question'd by my fears , of what may chance Or breed upon our absence : that may blow No sneaping winds at home , to make us say , " This ...
... Leon . Stay your thanks awhile , Sir , that's to - morrow . And pay them when you part . Pol . I'm question'd by my fears , of what may chance Or breed upon our absence : that may blow No sneaping winds at home , to make us say , " This ...
Strana 421
... Leon . We are tougher , brother , No longer stay . Than you can put us to't . Pol . Leon . One seven - night longer . Pol . Very sooth , to - morrow . Leon . We'll part the time between's , then : and in that I'll no gainsaying . Pol ...
... Leon . We are tougher , brother , No longer stay . Than you can put us to't . Pol . Leon . One seven - night longer . Pol . Very sooth , to - morrow . Leon . We'll part the time between's , then : and in that I'll no gainsaying . Pol ...
Strana 423
... Leon . Is he won yet ? Her . He'll stay , my lord . Leon . At my request he would not . Hermione , my dear'st , thou never spok'st To better purpose . Her . Leon . Never ? Never , but once . Her . What ! have I twice said well ? when ...
... Leon . Is he won yet ? Her . He'll stay , my lord . Leon . At my request he would not . Hermione , my dear'st , thou never spok'st To better purpose . Her . Leon . Never ? Never , but once . Her . What ! have I twice said well ? when ...
Strana 424
... Leon . Ay , my good lord . I ' fecks ! Why , that's my bawcock . What , hast smutch'd thy nose ? — They say , it's a copy out of mine . Come , captain , We must be neat ; -not neat , but cleanly , captain : And yet the steer , the ...
... Leon . Ay , my good lord . I ' fecks ! Why , that's my bawcock . What , hast smutch'd thy nose ? — They say , it's a copy out of mine . Come , captain , We must be neat ; -not neat , but cleanly , captain : And yet the steer , the ...
Strana 425
... Leon . No , in good earnest .— ( 16 ) How sometimes nature will betray its folly , Its tenderness , and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms ! -Looking on the lines Of my boy's face , methought I did recoil ( 17 ) Twenty - three years ...
... Leon . No , in good earnest .— ( 16 ) How sometimes nature will betray its folly , Its tenderness , and make itself a pastime To harder bosoms ! -Looking on the lines Of my boy's face , methought I did recoil ( 17 ) Twenty - three years ...
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altered Antigonus Baptista Bertram Bianca Bion Biondello Bohemia brother Camillo Capell Collier's Corrector reads Count daughter doth Duke Enter Exam Exeunt Exit eyes fair father fool gentleman give Grant White Grumio Hanmer hath hear heart heaven honour Hortensio Illyria Kate Kath KATHARINA King knave lady Leon look lord Lucentio madam maid Malone Malvolio marry master mean mistress Narbon never Olivia Orlando Padua passage Petruchio play poor pray printed prithee Rosalind Rousillon SCENE second folio Shakespeare Shep Sicilia Signior Sir Andrew Sir Toby Sir TOBY BELCH speak speech Steevens swear sweet tell thee there's thine thing third folio thou art thou hast Tranio W. N. Lettsom Walker Walker's Crit wife Winter's Tale word
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 352 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: — Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones. Do use to chant it: it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love Like the old age.
Strana 354 - A blank, my lord. She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, Feed on her damask cheek : she pin'd in thought, And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed ? We men may say more, swear more ; but indeed Our shows are more than will, for still we prove Much in our vows, but little in our love. DuJce. But died thy sister of her love, my boy? Vio. I am all the daughters of my father's house, And all...