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 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 48
Strana 10
... Touch . Mistress , you must come away to your father . Cel . Were you made the messenger ? Touch . No , by mine honour ; but I was bid to come for Ros . Where learned you that oath , fool ? Touch . Of a certain knight that swore by his ...
... Touch . Mistress , you must come away to your father . Cel . Were you made the messenger ? Touch . No , by mine honour ; but I was bid to come for Ros . Where learned you that oath , fool ? Touch . Of a certain knight that swore by his ...
Strana 11
... Touch . Stand you both forth now : stroke your chins , and swear by your beards that I am a knave . Cel . By our beards , if we had them , thou art . Touch . By my knavery , if I had it , then I were ; but if yo swear by that that is ...
... Touch . Stand you both forth now : stroke your chins , and swear by your beards that I am a knave . Cel . By our beards , if we had them , thou art . Touch . By my knavery , if I had it , then I were ; but if yo swear by that that is ...
Strana 12
... Touch . But what is the sport , monsieur , that the ladies have lost ? Le Beau . Why , this that I speak of . Touch . Thus men may grow wiser every day ! it is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies . Cel ...
... Touch . But what is the sport , monsieur , that the ladies have lost ? Le Beau . Why , this that I speak of . Touch . Thus men may grow wiser every day ! it is the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport for ladies . Cel ...
Strana 25
... Touch . For my part , I had rather bear with you than bear you yet I should bear no cross , if I did bear you ; for I think you have no money in your purse . Ros . Well , this is the forest of Arden . Touch . Ay , now am I in Arden ...
... Touch . For my part , I had rather bear with you than bear you yet I should bear no cross , if I did bear you ; for I think you have no money in your purse . Ros . Well , this is the forest of Arden . Touch . Ay , now am I in Arden ...
Strana 26
... Touch . Nay , I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it . Ros . Jove , Jove ! * this shepherd's passion Is much upon my fashion . Touch . And mine ; but it grows something stale with me . Cel . I pray you ...
... Touch . Nay , I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it . Ros . Jove , Jove ! * this shepherd's passion Is much upon my fashion . Touch . And mine ; but it grows something stale with me . Cel . I pray you ...
Běžně se vyskytující výrazy a sousloví
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...