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 89
Strana 6
... Sweet masters , be patient : for your father's remembrance , be at accord . Oli . Let me go , I say . My Orl . I will not , till I please : you shall hear me . father charged you in his will to give me good education : you have trained ...
... Sweet masters , be patient : for your father's remembrance , be at accord . Oli . Let me go , I say . My Orl . I will not , till I please : you shall hear me . father charged you in his will to give me good education : you have trained ...
Strana 9
... sweet my coz , be merry . Ros . Dear Celia , I show more mirth than I am mistress of ; and would you yet I ( 10 ) were merrier ? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father , you must not learn me how to remember any ...
... sweet my coz , be merry . Ros . Dear Celia , I show more mirth than I am mistress of ; and would you yet I ( 10 ) were merrier ? Unless you could teach me to forget a banished father , you must not learn me how to remember any ...
Strana 19
... sweet girl ? No : let my father seek another heir . Therefore devise with me how we may fly , Whither to go , and what to bear with us : And do not seek to take the charge upon you , ' To bear your griefs yourself , and leave me out ...
... sweet girl ? No : let my father seek another heir . Therefore devise with me how we may fly , Whither to go , and what to bear with us : And do not seek to take the charge upon you , ' To bear your griefs yourself , and leave me out ...
Strana 20
... sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The seasons ' difference ; as , the icy fang ( 37 ) And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ...
... sweet Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court ? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam , The seasons ' difference ; as , the icy fang ( 37 ) And churlish chiding of the winter's wind ...
Strana 21
... sweet a style . Duke S. Come , shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me , the poor dappled fools , Being native burghers of this desert city , Should , in their own confines , with forked heads Have their round haunches gor ...
... sweet a style . Duke S. Come , shall we go and kill us venison ? And yet it irks me , the poor dappled fools , Being native burghers of this desert city , Should , in their own confines , with forked heads Have their round haunches gor ...
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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...